A New Game
by Kristanci
Summary: Claire is intent on bringing down anyone corrupt enough to take interest in the T-Virus, but a long lost enemy has different plans for her. Wesker makes an appearance after 7 years, and Claire is put in a position that leaves her at his mercy. W/C and L/C
1. When Plans Go Awry

Don't own anything RE related. Only thing that's mine are the words and how they are mixed together.

Beautiful marble twin staircases spiraled into one, leading patrons and vendors down into the main ballroom. Chandeliers made of Swarovski crystal hung high above the formally dressed attendees, making the room sparkle in bright shimmers of various colors. Several tables were set out for the guests, inviting them to try the many appetizers that were displayed on them. A quartet played soft Baroque pieces from Bach, filling the air with a calm soothing environment. But Claire Redfield's nerves were on high alarm. She gave a small polite smile to a couple who had just happen to meet her gaze. She felt a hand on the small of her back.

"Relax, would you?" whispered Leon Kennedy. "We're here for information. This isn't a lab that we're trying to blow sky high."

Claire rolled her eyes, but she didn't move away from Leon's touch. "I know," she said. "I just want to make contact, get the coordinates of the next base, and then leave."

Leon's hand found hers and he pulled gently, guiding her into a dancing crowd. "It's been what... two months since we've had a break?" he said, putting his hand on her waist keeping the other intertwined with hers. "Besides, it's not often that I get to see you dressed like this." He pulled away, as though he were letting everyone in the room see how beautiful she was.

"Leon..." she said in embarrassment. It wasn't often that she dressed this way period. She had let her hair down and curled the ends, adding volume to her naturally straight strands. A snug pearl colored evening gown, hugged her body, showing off the curves of her hips and waist. It was a simple dress, but the transformation of tomboy Claire into "stunning enchantress" as Leon put it, was beyond description. She wasn't completely pulled into the world of beauty; she pressed her legs together momentarily, finding comfort that her gun was still strapped to her thigh. There was a high slit on the right side of the dress, allowing her easy access to the gun in worst case scenarios.

She thought that Leon cleaned up rather nicely as well. He had kept his dirty blond hair slicked back, and some of the strands had broken free of the hair spray's hold, but Claire wasn't complaining. He decided to match her and wore a white tuxedo, but she also knew he carried his own arsenal of weapons within the white jacket. 'Hope for peace, but prepare for war' was a motto they had to live by nowadays. Even with Umbrella gone, there were new players in the game that wanted their hands on the plans of creating bio weapons. They just never learned...

Claire glanced at her watch. "He's late," she said in annoyance. Her mind hit a mental wall when she felt Leon move against her, guiding her through a slow waltz. He rested his chin against her forehead, and they moved slowly; she for one was enjoying the closeness of their bodies.

"He'll be here," he said in reassurance. His eyes met hers, and she could feel her cheeks getting warm. Fighting Umbrella all this time gave her no time to think about normal things like relationships and a future with a husband and kids. She put her hand on his shoulder and followed his lead. If the viral infections didn't exist, if they didn't have to go through unless labs and destroy them, if they didn't always have to be on the run, she thought that Leon would have made a very suitable man to have a future with.

"You do look a lot like Chris," Leon said.

"That's romantic," Claire huffed, but she smiled. The thought of her brother also gave her hope and strength.

Leon chuckled, "I've never been one to know what to say to the ladies." Now that, she couldn't believe.

"Please, you have women gawking at you left and right," Claire said with a hint of jealousy. It was very easy to see the women who took their time staring at Leon.

"Yeah, well there's only one that I care to have the attention of," he said smiling, before he pulled her close then gently pushed her away, causing her to twirl, keeping their finger intertwined. The music died down and there was a small wave of applause.

Immediately, a man was by her side when the next song started. "May I have this dance?" he asked in a low voice. She glanced at the man then back to Leon.

He feigned defeat and winked at her. "Looks like I'm not the only one that's being favored. I'll grab us some drinks." When Leon's back was turned, the stranger grabbed her hand and lead her to a different area of the ballroom before he placed a hand on her waist.

Claire kept her eyes downcast, feeling her natural shyness creep up on her. 'Typical, Claire,' she thought. She could stare a tyran down, but when it came to men, she had to fight to keep her nerves under control. The man was clearly a head taller than her, but he moved gracefully. When she gathered up enough courage, she gazed into his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue, but they were cold, unforgiving. A chill shot through her body, but she kept a calm, natural facade. There was something about the man that raised a red flag in her mind.

He smiled, but it seemed unnatural on his handsome face. There was something about his features. They were almost... too perfect. "You're quite the dancer," he said.

"Thank you," she responded, forcing a fake smile. "Don't know where it comes from because I don't think my brother can dance."

He let go of her waist, allowing her fall back, then gently pulled her back into his embrace. "Yes, your brother does have a tendency to dance with death now, doesn't he?"

Claire's eyes widened. Her nerves went on overdrive and felt a wave of panic. How could she have forgotten. "You-!" she started, but was cut off when he proceeded to dip her. He was always very strong; she remembered the last time she was at his mercy. That was years ago. As time went by, she had managed to forget his image, but it was his red fiery eyes that haunted her. She glared at him when he pulled her back up. "Your eyes..."

"Well, I can't very well attend such a fascinating spectacle looking as I did. I am merely using the disguise of contacts, dear heart," Wesker said, keeping her close to him.

She couldn't cause a scene in front of all these people, he could kill everyone in the room without a second thought. "What do you want?" she asked firmly.

"It has been what... seven years, Miss Redfield?" he asked as though he was completely oblivious to the panicked state she was in.

"Give or take," she snarled, attempting to pull free.

He kept a firm hold on her, but surprisingly he was not hurting her. "Your brother has been quite elusive these passed years. And I must say that your 'Anti-Umbrella' club has been most impressive lately."

"You bet your ass, we are," she said sharply. When she pulled her hand away this time, he used her momentum to turn her around. Now her back was against his chest and his mouth was only inches from her ear.

"I've taken it upon myself," Wesker continued, moving with the music, "to see exactly how well you have been handling yourselves. And I found it fitting to test you and Mr. Kennedy first. Especially, you."

That was a threat. Coming from the power hungry monster, any time she heard test coming from his lips, she knew that he had just raised the stakes. "What are you going to do?" she asked, turning her head slightly, trying to see his face.

He placed his cheek on hers, keeping her from looking at him. "I would advise that you and Leon leave this place immediately, dear heart."

Claire's mind ran through every possible scenario she could think of that would put these people in danger. The only thing she could think of was that Wesker had released infected animals or people into the building or he had released the virus itself. Her eyes scanned over the unsuspecting crowd, trying to see if anything was out of the ordinary. Suddenly, she heard glass breaking above them. One of the chandeliers was plummeting toward a group of women.

"Move!" Claire screamed, breaking free of Wesker's hold. Many women screamed, and shouts of fear had filled the ballroom. The moment Claire saw that the women had been pushed out of harm's way, Claire reached for her leg holster, her fingers wrapping around her trusted Beretta. She aimed it at Wesker, and she was angered further when he just stood there, inviting her to pull the trigger.

She bet that he didn't think she'd actually fire on him, well surprise for him, she wasn't the same Claire he remembered all those years ago. She fired to kill, but she wasn't stupid enough to think that a lone bullet would be the end of Albert Wesker. She felt satisfaction when he frowned at the bullet hole directly over his heart. It was more of a statement than a threat to his health. She wasn't afraid of him. He could probably kill her the moment she slipped up, but she wanted him to know that he couldn't manipulate or control her.

Several bystanders fled the room when they heard the gunshot, but it was probably for the best that they left. Claire waved the Beretta around, trying to scare the onlookers into running. "Get out of here, now!" she barked. Who knew what was loose inside the premises. She soon found her answer when she heard a blood curdling scream behind her. Large masses of flesh dropped down into the ballroom. Claire remembered the sickening green color of the reptile like skin. _Shit... Hunters. _

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Well, this is first for me in the world of RE. Love the games and books, so I thought I would try my hand at a fic. Not exactly sure where I intend to take this, but I hope you all enjoy the ride.

Kris


	2. The New Pawn

Albert Wesker watched with amusement as he saw Claire and Leon work together to fend off the predators that now stalked them. He found it quite interesting to see Claire pushing people out into the main hall, in hope of saving their lives. He just didn't have the heart to tell her that it was a lost cause. Their deaths were already predestined. "Just run!" she cried, shoving a fear stricken woman away. "Don't look back, just get out of here!" Claire turned a fired at a Hunter charging straight for them. She aimed higher, away from the center of mass. With exceptional precision, she took out both eyes of the Hunter. It screamed and hissed, swinging it claws, seeking blood.

Wesker would never say that he admired the female Redfield, but he was rather impressed with the progress she's made over the years. She handled herself better, easily evading the attacks of the Hunters, and she was able to save just about everyone in the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man impaled by a Hunter claw... well, _almost_ everyone. Claire Redfield was no longer the kid sister to his arch enemy, Chris Redfield. No, she had grow up into quite a striking woman, and she was untouched by the virus. She was the perfect specimen. He wondered how her older brother would take it now he had officially claimed Claire as a new player in his little game. How he wished he could see Chris' expression, but one can't always get what they want, but he was damn close. He walked out onto the balcony and jumped down to the first floor, waiting for everything to be set in motion.

"Claire!" Leon shouted, pointing behind her. Trusting her partner completely, Claire ducked, feeling the sharp wisp of air just above her head. Several strands of her hair had been cleanly cut, falling down to the blood covered floor.

Leon braced himself as the Hunter pounced on him, bringing his hands up to keep the large gaping teeth away from his face. They crashed to the floor, sliding into several tables, knocking down champagne bottles and platters of food. Claire had to act quick. Reloading her Beretta while running to help Leon, she pointed the gun right at the back of the Hunter's head and fired two shots. The Hunter went limp and slumped forward, almost crushing Leon under its weight.

With both of their strength combined, they were able to haul the beast off of Leon. Claire helped him to his feet, but he was covered in green slime and dark colored splotches of blood. "Any of it yours?" Claire asked, keeping her eyes on the Hunters that were now surveying them.

"No," Leon said in disgust, wiping at the slime that was dripping off of his face. "Could you have waited for me to move out of the way?" he asked jokingly, also studying every movement the T-virus abominations made.

Claire smiled, keeping her back against Leon's. "You know better," she said. Something definitely wasn't right here. Her smiled faded. This type of behavior was inconsistent with the Hunters she had seen before. They were just circling them, observing them. Occasionally, one would step up and snap its jaws at them, but it made no move to attack. "What do you think they're doing?" she asked.

"No idea..." Leon admitted. "It's like they're waiting for something."

She was going to ask for more input, but her thoughts were interrupted when a table suddenly overturned. A young teenage boy tried crawling away, keeping his face buried in his hands. "No, please!" he cried when he saw the monsters just a few feet away from him. "I don't want to die! Please!" The boy's hair was matted down in dried blood, giving his natural brown hair a maroon shade. He couldn't have been older than eighteen.

Memories of Rockfort Island came flooding back to Claire. The guilt that she had worked so hard to bury resurfaced, reminding of her failure to save a friend. "Steve..." she barely whispered, taking a step toward the boy.

"Claire, what are you doing?" Leon snapped, when he realized that Claire had broken their formation.

Claire's eyes were on the Hunters that now teamed together to take down the poor boy. She aimed the Beretta, eyes narrowing in anger. "You get away from him!" she hissed and ran toward them. The gunshots echoed throughout the ballroom as Claire fired round after round. The Hunters screeched in pain, and one fell dead as Claire emptied her clip into it, not caring where the bullets pierced its body.

The last Hunter was sprayed with bullets from Leon's Desert Eagle. Except for the young boy's whimpers, the room was deadly silent. Claire looked down at the boy cowering at her feet. Her gaze softened when she realized that he was alive. She couldn't bear to see another Steve die in her arms. She knelt down and rubbed the boys shoulders. "Hey, are you all right?" Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you, miss!" he cried into her shoulder.

Claire let out a huff, exhaling the air she could when she was caught in the bear hug. All she could do was let out a relived laugh. She felt a pinch in her arm as he pulled away. "Ah!" she gasped, seeing a thin trail of blood run down her arm.

"Oh, sorry!" the boy said nervously. He used a clean portion of his shirt to wipe away the trickle. "Must have been one of my cuff links." He began straightening out his blood stained shirt, but Claire stopped him.

"Get out of here while you can," she said, standing to her feet. "Just because the only monsters we're seeing right now are dead doesn't mean there aren't more of them around..."

"Thank you, miss," he said again before he managed to get to feet and stumbled out of the room.

Claire scanned over the large ballroom, but Wesker was nowhere to be found. "Any sign of him?" she asked Leon.

"None... listen," he said immediately after his answer. "Don't do that again."

When she gave him a glare, he put up his hands in defense. "I'm not going to pull a Chris on you, but you scared the hell outta me when you didn't stick to the plan."

Claire could never stay mad at Leon for long. It was the way he looked at her that made her forgive him on a number of occasions. "Come on..." Claire sighed. "How often do we actually stick to the game plan with these guys?"

Leon reached out and brushed some of her hair from her sweaty cheeks. "It's not that. I just know when you're zoning out. Believe me, when you and Chris get into tunnel vision mode, it's pretty scary. What were you thinking? Did you even know there was a third Hunter right beside you?"

Claire blinked. She looked to the left, close to where the boy had emerged from. A Hunter lay dead at the foot of the neighboring table. _Freakin hell..._ She didn't say anything.

Leon nudged her gently. "Hey, I know you're more than capable of handling yourself. Trust me, I think I knew sooner than your brother did. I just... it worries me when you lose focus like that."

It was one of the few times that Leon ever expressed such concern for her. She partly believed that half of the time he couldn't was because of Chris' overprotective nature that caused Leon to keep his mouth shut. The bond they have developed back in Raccoon City would never break, even if one of them had to be in a different continent for a long period of time because of different missions. Back then, she relied on Leon more than she wanted to let him know.

When they met up again after the destruction of Raccoon City, he had taken the time to teach her how to shoot and how to properly defend herself when Chris was too busy blowing up the different properties that belonged to Umbrella. She even recalled a few times when Leon would just hold her when she couldn't sleep. The nightmares became too real for her, so she had formed a bit of a coffee addiction. It was only when she was in his arms that she found rest, but the monsters in the dark always came back.

Leon made the suggestion to train her while the others were creating several strategies to take Umbrella's main laboratories down. He believed that if she became confident in the real world, then perhaps she could fend off the monsters from her mind. And it worked. The monsters still invaded her dreams, but she wasn't helpless. Their morning conversations always started with Leon asking, "well...?"

And she would answer. "I kicked ass."

Claire snapped out of her thoughts, noting that Leon still watched her, waiting for an answer. He was always kind to her, and even though Jill and Rebecca made little jokes about them having cute kids, she wanted to keep those ideas out of her head. Until Umbrella was finished, she couldn't be distracted by a future that had no chance of existing. But as of late, she started to believe that as long as corruption and greed lingered in the human heart, they would always be fighting.

She was human, so she allowed herself one moment of weakness. "Thank you," she said, stepping toward him. "For everything. You have no idea how much everything you've done means to me..." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nestling her forehead against his neck. The warmth and comfort she had relied on over the years returned as he hugged her back.

"Anytime," he said in her ear. He ran his fingers through her hair as he pulled back. His fingers then traced the outline of her face before resting beneath her chin. "Your brother would kill me, but I think I'll take my chances," he said, raising her chin up.

Claire smiled, feeling her heart beating faster. It had been so long since she felt the intimate touch of another. She felt comfortable in Leon's arms; she always had. "You would probably have better chances with a tyrant," she joked, closing her eyes. She felt the tip of his nose, brush past hers, and the moment their lips met, a sharp pain shot through her mind. A pained cry escaped from her lips.

"Claire!" Leon gasped, holding onto her as she fell back, passing out in his arms.

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Jason West ran as fast as he could in the parking garage. _Holy shit! Holy shit!_ his mind kept screaming. He had no idea what the hell those things were, but he wasn't going to find out. He only hoped that the girl made it out alive. He looked back to see if any of the monsters were chasing him, but then he ran head first into a wall.

He felt his body slamming down into the ground, his head pounding from the impact. When his vision cleared, he looked up to see the man who had hired him to attend the party. _Red eyes..._ he thought fearfully. "Look, man I did what you said. You just said scratch her with this right?" holding up a small pin. "So I did it!" Jason cringed when the man bent down, offering him a hand.

"You did well," the man said in a low even tone. "Did you make sure that it drew blood?"

Jason nodded his head, accepting the dark gloved hand. "Yeah, man... her arm was bleeding a bit. You didn't say anything about monsters invading the party..." The moment he got to his feet, the man wrapped his fingers around his throat.

"It slipped my mind, Mr. West," he said, placing a pair of black sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. "Did I also mention that once your objective was completed, your life immediately became expendable?"

Jason West's screams filled the crisp night air, but they fell upon dozens of deaf lifeless ears.


	3. Strange Occurrences

He swung the door open, nearly breaking the hinges from the door's frame when he reached the top step of the small stairwell. Immediately, three separate weapons were drawn on him. Jill Valentine and Leon Kennedy slowly lowered their weapons and sat back down in their seats when they realized it was only Chris Redfield that had madly stormed the main entrance to their temporary hideout.

"Where is she?" he asked in concern. He threw down the duffle bag that contained a few outfits, his backup weapon, some snacks and his passport. Three days ago he had received a message from Leon saying that Claire had collapsed during a simple mission. He also said that they had some information for him, but it wasn't the kind they had originally sought. Chris' eyes landed on his partner, Jill.

She set down the pair of Desert Eagles on the nightstand next to her. She was the first to her feet to give Chris a greeting, resting a hand on his forearm in an attempt to calm him. "She's all right, Chris. When she got back, all Claire needed was a full night of rest. It was probably just fatigue that got to her. None of us have been resting fully, you know that." Jill's beautiful eyes were lacking their natural fire; she, too, looked tired and worn out. He slid his hand up her neck, nestling her cheek.

"It's been rough the last couple of months," Chris sighed, looking toward the door that allowed access to the room Claire was using. It took all of his will not to barge in there and check on her. Rather than pace around the room like the overprotective brother that he was, he just forced himself to sit down. He glanced over to Leon, who looked slightly distraught as well. "What happened?"

Regardless of his undecided opinion of Leon regarding his sister, he knew Kennedy never lied to him or would hold anything from him. The ex-cop never gave the details about what happened to him in Raccoon City, but Chris respected that. Everyone in the Anti-Umbrella had first hand experience dealing with the T and G viruses. Hell, he and Claire had to deal with a completely separate virus in Antarctica. Each of them had their own nightmares to deal with, and sometimes he found himself staring at a wall, wondering if there was any way to leave the past behind. This was no way live.

They were always moving because there were more parties involved, showing high interest in the use of viral weapons. This had become bigger than Umbrella ever dreamed, but of course, everything was being done backstage. The world was completely blind to the ugliness that was roaming around, and Chris and his team did not sufficient credibility to fight against the newest players publicly. Rebecca and Barry were still in Asia, dealing with a small test lab that they had been informed of two months ago. Rebecca Chambers was their ace player at the moment because she understood the details of the virus to a degree that the others couldn't follow. Hopefully, when they return, she would have more information to put these bastards down.

He could have sworn the room dropped a couple degrees in temperature. Jill and Leon both looked at each other as though they were having their own private conversation. When Leon did not immediately answer him, he turned to Jill. "What?" he asked again. "Did I miss something? What happened back at the Holiday party when we were supposed to meet our contact?"

Jill leaned forward, rubbing the back of her neck. She rested her chin on her hands, looking at the floor in disapproval. "Leon and Claire had a run in. Chris," Jill said, looking straight into his eyes. "Wesker's back."

It took a moment for that little piece of information to register in his mind. It had been so long since Rockfort Island; he had become used to the idea that Wesker had disappeared. For him to come out of hiding now brought a whole new set of problems. And for him to target Leon and his sister first baffled him. "That son of a bitch," he said slowly, annunciating every single word. He looked to Leon. "Start from the beginning."

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Claire stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a pale green towel. She wiped the steam from the small mirror that hung above a white porcelain sink. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out what happened back at the winter party. She remembered Leon coming in for a kiss and then she blacked out. When she woke up, Leon had tucked her into her bed asking her to rest for the remainder of the night. Against Jill and Leon's wishes, she hopped out of bed feeling healthier than ever, and ate two full course meals during the next day. She had no idea what she would say to Chris when he came back home. Luckily, he had learned to calm down before he starting hounding her for answers whenever something went wrong, especially if it came to her wellbeing.

She began to towel dry her shoulder length hair. It had been so long since she cut her hair, she figured she was due for a change about a year ago. Rebecca had suggested layers, but Claire didn't mind as long as there was enough length to tie back into a ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror; she was a bit paler than usual, but other than that she felt and looked just fine. Everyone was over reacting. She put on a dull gray turtleneck and knee high socks and jeans.

The moment she exited her room, Chris was by her side. "Did that bastard touch you?" he asked darkly.

Claire tipped her head to the side, and gave her beloved brother a goofy smile. "Come on, do you think he would have gotten away unscathed?" She lifted her hand up and pointed out her index finger, suddenly flicking her wrist up as though she had fired a gun.

"Did you now?" Chris's expression changed surprise with hint of pride.

"Right where his should have been if he had one," Claire said winking. She relived the moment in her mind. Now in hindsight, that was probably one of the craziest things she's ever done, but that single bullet said everything she wasn't able to say to his face when they last saw each other. She half expected Wesker to grab her by the throat again and throw her around like a helpless puppy. Claire frowned as she thought back earlier in the party. Before she was truly able to get a feel for her "mysterious dance partner", he had felt... normal. He was graceful, confident, and entirely too bold. There was a part of her that wanted to stand up against him, to show him that the average male couldn't touch her in such a way. But he wasn't the everyday type, now was he? The other part of her wanted to succumb to him. It seemed so easy to.

She was always into the hobbies that most women would turn away from, and it was because of Chris' influence that she grew up the way she did. She never faulted her brother for raising her as he did. In fact, she was extremely grateful. With the exception of Leon, no man had caught her interest. She didn't want a man who was afraid of her. She didn't want a dominating one either. Leon was right in between, and there was no other man that she felt comfortable enough to drop her guard around. He could rough house with her, and still keep her in check, but he could respected her strengths, admitting that he truly would be afraid of her is she ever snapped.

Wesker was the type to just take whatever he wanted. That was a characteristic that was scary yet alluring at the same time. She could still feel his hands on her at times. The touch was entirely different from what she encountered seven years ago.

Chris flicked her forehead. "I asked if you were all right," he said, apparently repeating himself.

Claire recovered and lightly slapped the back of his head. "Of course, I am. I'm standing here, alive and breathing, aren't I?" she asked with a huff. "I just had a black out."

The older Redfield put an arm over her shoulders, giving her an encouraging shake. "All right, I believe you. But I do want to ask you about Wesker. Did he tell you anything? Could you pick up anything from him explaining why he decided to show his face all of a sudden?"

That was the question of the year she had no answer to. "I don't know..." He had said very little to her; it was mostly his presence that bothered her more than anything. "He just said he wanted to test us out, especially me. He actually told me that Leon and I should have left the party, but then the Hunters attacked." Chris and the others were silent, waiting patiently for her. "There was something else that was strange." She looked to Leon. "The Hunters..."

"Yeah," he agreed. "They looked like they were almost tame."

"What do you mean tame?" Chris asked, raising an eyebrow.

Leon shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know about your personal experiences with those things, but whenever I ran into them, they were vicious and uncontrollable. But this group... it looked liked they were being told when and when not to attack us."

"At some point, they just waited," Claire added, crossing her arms over her chest now more confused than she originally felt. "Weirdest thing I ever saw."

Much to her dismay, that classic scowl was on Chris' face. Before he could say anything, she just pushed past him and walked into the open kitchen they all shared. "I think we can all agree that we have to prepare for anything."

"No argument here," Jill said.

"Obviously, Leon and I made it out of there alive, so now that the initial surprise is over, we'll be ready for round two," Claire said with confidence. Somehow, she just knew that this wasn't over. Wesker's hatred for her brother would never lessen or disappear, and it was more than odd that he didn't cause her any physical harm save for intruding on her personal space. The last time they had met, he had almost killed her. With only a few words that were exchanged, he had lashed out at her. Even without the added effect of his fiery eyes, she could see the rage that had been pent up inside of the ex STARS captain.

"Heh, when did you grow up?" she heard Chris say. "While you're in there, can you get me some water? Heads up, small fry."

"Yeah, sure," Claire said, keeping her back to Chris.

"Claire!" Chris shouted in alarm.

When she turned around, she saw the cup coming straight for her head. Chris had tossed it to her without realizing her attention was elsewhere. The moment she focused on the cup, things seemed to slow down.

_Glass._

_Wide brimmed. _

_Made in Taiwan._

_Mark of light pink lip gloss. _

Before she knew it, the cup was in the grasp of her outstretched hand. She looked at the glass in awe, wondering where the last few seconds went. "What the hell..."

Chris whistled to her. "Wow, nice catch. I was sure I would have given you a black eye," he said, rushing up to her. "No hard feelings, sis. I wasn't thinking."

Claire snapped out of her thoughts. She plastered a fake smile on her face, and stuck her tongue out at Chris. "Like that's news to me." She laughed when he put her in a light headlock, but the second he left the kitchen, she turned to the sink acting as though she were washing dishes. What she did was impossible. Claire looked down at the cup, unable to shake the feeling of coincidence. A small ripple of concern rooted itself in her mind. How had she done it? How was she able to see every single detail on the glass in the span of a few seconds?

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Short, I know. I've haven't had much in the way of a break at work, but I wanted to update what I had so far. I'm still writing, so don't worry about me not updating for a while.

Kris


	4. The Strategy of a Madman

Wesker didn't have much in the way of emotion, but he was pleased that things were going according to plan. Initial contact had been made with the lovely Claire Redfield, West had done his job, and now he sat patiently as he watched the Anti-Umbrella group break into the lower levels of an abandoned Umbrella lab set deep underground beneath the beautiful city of Paris. The information of this particular lab had been intentionally leaked to Chris' group, so that they no had choice but to investigate. It was a lost cause as they would find absolutely nothing here. An outbreak had occurred earlier, and though a few of the researchers had actually survived, this

Multiple screens were mounted on the walls of the surveillance room allowing Wesker to see everything and anything he wanted. Chris, Claire, Leon, and Jill had broken into teams while infiltrating the main entrance at the lab, and now they had regrouped, looking confused. Wesker turned on the audio function, curious to hear their frustrations.

"I don't get it," Jill Valentine said, looking down the hallway they now faced. "There's nothing here. Didn't your contact say that this was lab was fully active?"

Leon frowned. "He did. He was from a trusted source, so I don't understand why he would give false information."

"Unless..." Claire began, gaining the attention of her group, "he wasn't the real contact. Think about it. We ran into none other than Albert Wesker during the party. Maybe he had something to do with this... actually I'm sure of it. That's the only explanation." She let out an aggravated sigh and kicked a wall in frustration. "So blind."

"I think that's a valid point," Chris said. He looked to each of his team members, running a gloved hand through his hair in an almost sheepish manner. "Well, since we're here, we may as well try to find anything useful. Abandoned or not, keep your guard up. This _did_ belong to Umbrella."

"Yeah, no kidding," Leon said, keeping his Beretta at the ready.

Jill opened something small and thin. Wesker punched in a few buttons to get a closer look. Apparently, she had a PDA of some sort, and the layout of the entire lab was displayed on the small six inch screen. "According to this, the main test lab should be straight down this hallway."

"What's on the way?" Chris asked, slowly walking down the dark path.

"A break room and a few offices," Jill answered after a few seconds.

"Ok. Seeing that there doesn't seem to be immediate danger, how about we split up here and meet back in the hall in fifteen. Each of us can take a room," Chris asked.

"Sounds good," Claire answered. She was already opening a door that was cracked open, using the hand that held a small flashlight to push open the door completely.

"You should be proud," Jill commented to Chris in approval before she walked past him.

"I am," Chris said with a smile. "Like you wouldn't believe." He made his way to the break room while Leon and Jill took the paths that lead them to dual offices and connected cubicles.

Wesker pushed more buttons, keeping Claire on the screens in front of him at all times.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Claire had never seen so much blood fill a single room in all of her life. It was on the walls, on the desks, the floors and even the ceiling. Usually, streaks of a bloody hand print could be seen on the walls, but this time it was streaks of white that she could occasionally see. The walls were already soaked in blood, and whoever was trying to get away, grabbed at the stucco cover, wiping at the red that painted it. The room wasn't very big, but in the corner, she saw a decayed body. The skull had a large hole in it, and a few inches away from its hand, she saw a handgun. "Poor bastard," Claire said softly. She had seen so much in her short life, and it was sad to say that she had become desensitized to much of the gore she came across. But she knew what it felt like to feel cornered, to feel helpless and scared. It was only because of Leon and Sherry that she didn't go completely insane with fright.

The smell death was stronger than she remembered. This was the first room she had been in that the smell was so potent. Her nostrils were beginning to burn, but she couldn't understand why. There was also something else that she smelled. It was decaying flesh, but she could also smell moisture in the air. That didn't make sense. The body was nothing but bone, so what was the foreign smell of flesh?

She heard something above her. When she looked up, she could see a few drops of what looked like water about to fall from the air vent. The first drop fell, and she stepped away just in time to see it splatter to the floor. That wasn't water, it had more of a gooey texture. "Oh shit," was all she had to say, when the vent burst open, and a long tongue shot out at her.

Claire dodged easily, watching the Licker's tongue fly past her head and then retract back up the vent. A large flat body came crawling out of it, attaching itself to the ceiling. She could see its exposed brain and the large gaping teeth that protruded out of its wet slimy mouth. It dugs its claws into the ceiling keeping is body hovered above her. The sharp tongue darted out again, but this time her body reacted against the logic in her mind. Her left hand dropped the flashlight and within a split second she grabbed a hold of the tongue, digging her nails into the middle of the rough length of flesh. She could feel the blood gushing out of the wounds she inflicted, and with a rough tug, she brought the Licker down, watching it crash into a desk in the center of the office.

It screeched and thrashed about, regaining its footing, and looked extremely pissed off. It snapped its head back trying to pull its tongue back from her grip. She held on tightly, only letting go for a fraction of a second to pull sharply and bring it closer to her inch by inch. When the Licker was close enough to her, she delivered a strong ax kick to its head and dug her boot into the base of its neck. She pulled the trigger on her Beretta, firing three shots into the grotesque head.

The Licker twitched involuntarily, but she knew it was long gone. Claire looked down to see the tongue in her hand and she immediately dropped it, backing away in shock. What had she done? Was she out of her freaking mind?

"Jesus, Claire, you all right?" she heard Leon behind her. He rushed up to her, doing a small double take when he saw the Licker. "Well, obviously, my man points are in jeopardy here," he joked. When Claire didn't answer him, he touched her elbow. "Hey, you ok?"

Claire looked at him with fearful eyes, but she recovered. "Yeah, just got a little scare. Wasn't expecting that, that's all." But it wasn't the Licker that bothered her at all; it was her. There was something definitely going on with her body.

Chris' voice echoed from the radio strapped to her hip. "Heard gunfire. Are you both all right?"

She brought the radio close to her mouth. "Yeah, we're fine. Did you find anything?"

"Nothing yet, but we could use a few more pairs of hands and eyes. This place is huge," came the response.

"Got it. We'll be over in a few minutes," Claire said, walking out of the office, ignoring Leon's questioning stare.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There were three rows of testing tubes set up in the main lab, and most of them still contained the perished subjects inside. Only a few had been broken, but it was probably that small number that caused the whole place to be abandoned. The computers had been destroyed, and piles of documents littered the floor. There was broken glass everywhere, and the countless vials and trays were either shattered or destroyed beyond repair. It was strange that the lights still worked in this part of the secret lab, but it made things easier for them to see.

"Anything?" Chris asked, scanning over the papers he held.

"Not sure," Jill said over her shoulder. "Then again, this is all science talk, so I'll save these for Rebecca to go over." She tucked many of the notes into her butt pack.

Claire and Leon entered the the lab shortly after, going into the routine of "research cramming" finding anything that could give them leads on either the status of the other test labs or the creation of a possible antidote for the new versions of the virus.

After ten minutes, a large monitor beeped to life. Albert Wesker, sunglasses and all, greeted them. His gloved hands were under his chin, and he had an uncharacteristic smile on his face. "Ah, Chris, how nice to see you again," his voiced boomed over the PA system.

"Wesker," Chris growled, dropping the papers in his hand. He and the others now grouped around the monitor, but Claire kept back a few steps, the memory of the party still fresh in her mind.

"I apologize that I am unable to greet you in person, but that will happen in due time, I assure you," Wesker continued.

"What the hell do you want?" Chris spat angrily. He protectively stood in front of her Jill and Claire.

Wesker waved his index finger at Chris. "Tsk, tsk. You were never very patient now, were you? This matter, believe it or not, does not concern you at all. In fact, I wish to speak with your sister."

Claire felt all eyes on her, even the red fiery pair that belonged to her enemy. She wouldn't back down from, so she kept hers on Wesker's face, feeling her cheeks burn. "What do you want?" she repeated her brother's question, but it held far less venom.

"How are you feeling, dear heart?" he asked. "You seem to be well."

Claire didn't offer any answer. "Don't answer me with another question," she said calmly. "What do you want?"

"Straight to the point," Wesker said. "I like that. Miss Redfield, trust me when I say that your condition is no coincidence or struck of luck."

"What condition?" Chris asked, completely putting himself in between Claire and Wesker's line of vision.

Wesker's lips turned up, and Claire knew it was because he saw her beginning to pale. "Have you noticed any changes?" Wesker asked her, the words gliding over Chris' stature.

Claire's small nod gave him approval to continue. She couldn't hide this from Chris and the others any longer. First it was the cup two weeks ago, then she had dove out of harm's way when a drunk driver had driven straight into the light pole she had been leaning against. Now the incident with the Licker had her convinced that something was going on with her body. Even her senses seemed to be enhanced lately. "What's happening to me?" she asked softly.

Wesker cocked his head to the side. "You feel it, don't you?" he asked. "I'm assuming that by now your sense of smell and sight have improved drastically, and your reflexes have become sharper and more precise?"

Now she could feel the burning stare of her brother. "What is he talking about, Claire?" he asked in concern.

Claire was finally able to tear her eyes away from the screen for a moment. "There's something wrong with me, Chris," she said in fear. "I'm... I'm doing things that I've never been able to do before."

"Now, my dear, I wouldn't look at your situation in a negative manner," Wesker said.

It finally clicked. The false information, Wesker's sudden appearance, and the changes in her body. She looked at her left bicep where she had been cut at the holiday party. There wasn't even a scar; the wound had healed completely. "Am I infected?" she asked.

"Infected has such a negative connotation to it," Wesker smiled.

"You son of a bitch!" Chris shouted. He grabbed Claire by her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. "We're going to find you a cure, sis. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." She felt Leon's hand on the small of her back, trying to offer her moral support.

"There is a cure for her special condition," Wesker cut in. He held up a small yellow vial. "I carry the only sample of it. My proposition is with you, Miss Redfield. I require a specimen to test out the newest generation to the G-virus, and you are the one I have chosen."

"Why me?" Claire stepped forward.

"Jill has been infected before, but an antidote has been administered to her body; however, that makes her blood stream tainted. Miss Wong, who I am sure Mr. Kennedy is quite familiar with," Wesker said. Claire took a second to look at Leon, but he averted her gaze. Wesker didn't miss a beat, "well, her blood has been tainted by Dr. Birkin. As for Miss Chambers, I require a body that has matured fully. And I must say, dear heart, that you have blossomed beautifully. If you require more reason than that, you are simply the younger sister of Chris, and it brings me such pleasure to watch him suffer," Wesker sat back, toying with the antidote between his fingers. "And my proposition is that you and you alone come to find the antidote before it's too late-" he frowned when he saw her pointing a gun at her own head.

"Then I'll just kill myself," Claire declared. She could feel the nerves in her fingers twitching, and her hand was shaking. But if it came down to this, then it had to be done. There was no way in hell that she would turn into one of those monsters. Never could she forget what happened to Steve.

"No way!" Leon was by her side, trying to bring the gun away from her head, but she shook him off.

"Once I come back, I know my family will do what they have to," Claire's voice began to break. Chris would understand why she made such a hasty decision. He would do the same.

Wesker's smile returned and his tone was more arrogant than ever. "That would be an alternative, but it is one I advise that you do not take."

"And why not?" Claire gritted through her teeth. Her thumb pulled down on the hammer of her Beretta showing Wesker that wasn't screwing around.

"What flows through your blood is a generation of the virus that has not been tested. You do remember what happened to Dr. Birkin and Alexia no doubt? Even though I do not know the full effects of the virus after your death, I can quite promise you that you will come back as something much more frightening that the good doctors combined. Are you quite sure that your "family" has the necessary skills and equipment to kill you? You could quite easily take their lives from them in a moment's notice. Do you want that on your conscience?"

He had to be bluffing. But at the same time, she wouldn't put it past him to test out the limitations of another virus he created. And since she was the only family Chris had left, Wesker would probably go out of his way to make sure she would suffer more just make Chris hurt. Claire faltered, the gun in her right hand came away from her temple. Was it possible that she would be reanimated into something that Chris couldn't kill? She remembered Dr. Birkin and Alexia well. They were transformed into monsters that she, Leon and Chris barely managed to escape from. It took the destruction of a city and part of a continent to ensure the deaths of the ex-scientists.

"Good girl," Wesker said when he saw Jill take the gun from Claire. "Now, as I was saying. I have the only antidote to your condition, and if you want it, you must retrieve it from me. However, you must do it alone."

"Like hell she will," Chris said angrily. "Wesker, I swear to God, if anything happens to her..."

"As I have said," Wesker interjected. "The virus remains untested. I must see what Miss Redfield is capable of. Now you have the option of waiting out the the effects of the virus, but there is no telling how much of the real you will be left," he said, turning his attention fully back on Claire. "I await your answer, dear heart. Don't worry about finding me; I have my ways of finding you."

That was the last thing Wesker said before Leon and Chris fired upon the monitor, destroying it completely.


	5. Blackmail

"I said drop it!" Claire screamed at the top of her lungs. She was so angry that she punched the bedroom wall, easily breaking through the wooden supports behind the drywall. She pulled her hand back staring at the white dust that covered her knuckles and forearm. "Jesus..." she gasped. She didn't even feel a hint of pain.

"Claire," Chris started, but that flared her temper back up.

"Don't even start, Chris," Claire snapped. She couldn't deal with this right now. Not even a second passed when they returned to the hotel that Chris was on her like a hound, asking her question after question. The ride back to the hotel had been silent, and it was only Leon holding her hand that helped her deal with the tension that emanated from her brother. "You can't possibly understand what I'm going through." Chris opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off by shoving him away. He flew back into the couch, and it made Claire grimace in shame. She lashed out at the one person she loved more than anyone else. Grabbing her coat, she ran to the front door and left the room, tears threatening to fall.

"Claire..." Chris sighed. Jill helped him back to his feet, but he found that he couldn't hold himself up. He sank back into the couch, burying his face in his hands. "What can I do, Jill?" he asked. To his comfort and dismay, Jill said nothing. She just slipped her arm around his and rested her cheek against his shoulder, slowly rocking their bodies together. She placed a small kiss on his ear and let him vent.

Leon had kept to himself for the entire trip and the exchange that happened between the siblings. It crushed him that Claire was now directly involved with virus, but what hurt him more was the pained look she gave him when Wesker mentioned Ada. That was part of Raccoon City that Leon never really elaborated on with Claire. He shared everything else with her but that. She had her suspicions that someone had his heart, but she never outright asked him. And he never told her the truth even when she silently asked him. He had no right to pursue her if he couldn't be honest with her, and for her to find out about Ada through Wesker had cost him.

He put on his shoulder holster followed by a thick jacket. "I'll go check on her," was all he said before he left Chris and Jill.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was 10:30pm when Claire glanced at her watch. The night life had started, and every time exhaled her breath came out in white puffs. She closed her eyes, sad that she couldn't even feel the sensations of the cold night air anymore. What else was going to be changing? Would she be able to taste her favorite foods? What if she wasn't able to see her favorite colors, and she could just see everyone and everything by way of heat waves or something crazy like that.

She held up two fingers to her neck, checking for her heartbeat. Well, that was a relief; she still had a pulse, but there was no way to know for how much longer. Unless... "Wesker," she heard herself say. He had truly put her in a corner. There was no way out of this one. "What a way to go," she said sadly. So much for the future she had fantasized about. Her chances of spending the rest of her life with someone she loved, seeing Chris and Jill finally elope, visiting Barry and his family on the weekends, finally meeting the man that Rebecca described as her savior... she wouldn't be able to see any of that.

Several of the Parisians brushed by her, trying to find shelter from the cold. She found herself at a small cafe with only few customers inside. Hot chocolate always made her feel better no matter what the circumstance. She pushed open the glass door and took a seat at a small circular table. When the waiter came by to take her order, he immediately recognized her as an American.

"And what can I get for ze mademoiselle?" he asked with a charming smile.

"Do you have any hot cocoa available?" Claire inquired, trying her best to put up a friendly facade.

"Only ze best in all of Paris," the waiter boasted. He took the menu from the table, and turned toward the kitchen to put in her order.

Claire placed her hands on the table, looking blankly at her fingers. It had taken at least an hour for her to clean the Licker's flesh from under her nails. She wondered what else she was capable of or would be capable of within the next... she blinked. How long did she have? A few more days? A week? When would the virus in her bloodstream overwhelm her system and take control? Her hands balled up into fists, and she leaned forward resting her forehead on the smooth wooden table. She felt the tears come then. Little droplets slid down the tip of her nose and fell onto the surface of the table, forming a small salty puddle. That gave her some comfort for the time being. She was still able to cry.

"Why the tears, dear heart?" asked a voice in front of her.

Claire's eyes opened, but she didn't lift her head. It wasn't a surprise that he found her here away from any form of sanctuary. He probably had her cell number, the addresses to every place she had been, and even her IP address. She felt a napkin being brushed against her knuckles, and she slowly opened her hands and accepted it. Finally, she leaned back, taking care to wipe away the trickles on her cheeks. Wesker stayed silent, observing her through the dark shades he wore constantly.

"Only a heartless monster would ask me that," she said softly. The waiter came back then, setting a large mug of hot chocolate by her hand.

"Something for your friend?" the waiter asked politely.

"No, he's fine," Claire answered. The tone in her voice told the waiter that now wasn't a good time for his service. The young man left without another word, muttering something French under his breath.

"How long do I have?" Claire asked, bringing the mug to her lips and taking a sip of the rich cocoa. The aroma was overwhelming, and she moaned, inhaling the strong scent. She never knew that chocolate could smell so delicious. "I'm changing more everyday... how long do I have before I have no choice but to hurl myself off a cliff or something?"

"Now Miss Redfield," Wesker started. "I know for a fact that your hearing has been enhanced, so I am sure that you heard me when I said I am in possession of a cure."

"Why would I help you? I refuse to become one of your little experiments," she said, taking another sip.

"Clearly, I was mistaken when I believed you loved your brother unconditionally," Wesker said. "Would you really put him through the death of the only family he has left?"

Claire nearly slammed down the mug on the table, furious that he was putting words into her mouth. "Don't you dare tell me that I don't care about Chris or the others. Thanks to people like you, they're all I have." She didn't want to have friends or become attached to anyone not involved with Chris' team for fear that cruel people like Wesker would take them away from her. She was lucky enough to have her brother and Leon.

Wesker didn't say anything to her. He opened a suitcase and pulled out a few files, allowing her to see the pictures on the top of the pile. Claire felt a cold shiver spike through her body. She saw a photo of young woman and a man she had never seen before strapped to a table, apparently unconscious. The pictures were taken from afar, but Claire recognized the woman's short red hair. "Becca..." Claire pushed away the first photo scanning over the second in line. A needle was being injected into both Rebecca and the man.

"How could you?" Claire bit back an angered scream.

Wesker put up his hands, trying to look innocent. "The deal is simple. I want to test the sample running through your body, and you want your friend back. The man I am sure you are not familiar with, but Miss Chambers and he had crossed paths before. He is none other than Billy Coen, escaped convict and I guess you could say partner in crime to Miss Chambers."

Claire felt her heart break. Billy was the man Becca had told everyone about when she recapped first encounter with the virus. Becca never said much to the boys about it, but whenever it was just her and Jill, the ex-STARS medic would tell them that she wished he had stayed with her. Claire knew that Becca had a special place in her heart for Billy Coen. "How did you find her?"

"It really wasn't all that hard. Finding Mr. Coen was really the more surprising factor. Apparently, he had been trying to find Miss Chambers for quite a while now, and he did catch up to her in Europe. Only his timing could have been better, I suppose, on his part." Wesker gathered the pictures up and set them back into his black suitcase. "Miss Chambers and Mr. Coen's lives are in your hands, dear heart. Allow me to test the strands of the virus in your body, and they go free. Once you are completely mine, an antidote will be administered to them."

The mug in Claire's hands suddenly exploded, spilling hot chocolate all over the table. Claire could feel the ceramic shards biting into her skin and she began crushing them in her grasp. Her nerves were on fire, and she wanted nothing more than to rip off Wesker's head. She knew several customers were staring at her in wonder, but if any of them said anything to her, she would do more than to tell them to screw off.

Slowly, she stood to her feet, not bothering wiping away at the hot chocolate that dripped down her sleeves. Wesker followed suit. "Would you like another drink?" he asked calmly.

"No,"Claire said in a deadly tone, throwing the ceramic fragments in the trash. "And after all this shit you're putting me through, you're paying for that drink and the cup," she said before she walked out of the cafe and waited for Wesker.

When he joined her outside, he guided her to a parked car, nonchalantly opening the passenger side door for her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leon walked by several shops, glancing through the display windows every so often when he saw something he believed Claire would like as a present. Her birthday was coming up soon, and it had been a while since anything joyous had been celebrated. All of them had been so caught up in traveling and stopping Umbrella-like companies that they forgot how to be normal. This year, he made it a point to do something nice for Claire. It was the least he could do since his feelings for her had been bouncing off the walls lately.

When they both were reunited after the destruction of Raccoon City, they found comfort in each other. Leon had found a deeper level of respect for Claire in their reunion. No matter how many monsters she faced, she came back stronger than ever, ready to face more horrific challenges. He had freaked out when he found out she had been captured and taken to Rockfort Island, but Chris had told him to stay behind. That time they were apart gave him the freedom to think about their relationship.

Ada had plagued his mind for the longest time, but he was able to move on and become a valuable asset to Chris' team. He and Claire always had a stronger bond than the others, and it was because of their history that they were able to work so well together. Slowly, he came to realize how precious Claire was to him, not just as a friend or partner. He looked forward to seeing her in the morning, and he enjoyed the time they spent training. He wasn't sure if she was aware of it, but during some nights, she would thrash around, fighting off demons that weren't there. He would hold her until she drifted off back to sleep, and then he would leave before the morning came.

He made a bold move back at the holiday party, but it wasn't a decision that he regretted. He had genuinely wanted to kiss her, and even if she would have kicked his ass right after, he was comfortable knowing that he wouldn't have to play the "what if" game. Infected or not, he wouldn't leave her. She needed him now more than ever, and he was not going to abandon her.

He looked up ahead and saw Claire standing outside. He was going to shout her name, but he didn't want to cause a public disturbance so late at night. Trying his best to maneuver around the people on the crowded sidewalk, he made his way to her. Then he saw him.

"Wesker..." he said in disbelief. The tall blond had lured Claire to an unmarked car, and Claire willingly stepped inside. Leon roughly pushed past people, forgetting all forms of etiquette. "Claire!" he shouted this time.

Wesker turned in his direction, and he gave Leon a small smirk. He stepped into the driver's side, and seconds later, the car roared to life. "Claire, no!" Leon yelled desperately. He ran as fast he could, trying to head off the car, but he was too late. The black car peeled away, and Leon could see Claire's face vaguely.

She placed her hand on the window as if she was saying goodbye. "I'm sorry," she mouthed to him, and then she was gone.


	6. The First Test

AN: This chapter will have a bit of swearing in it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They were in the middle of nowhere, and that scared her. All she could see were trees in every direction. Even the road they were now driving down wasn't a path that was used anytime recently. To say the least, the ride was quite bumpy. Just when she thought the flight back to the states was bad, being cooped up in a car with Albert Wesker was unnerving. He had his own private plane waiting for him, so she had absolutely no idea where she was, only that she was in Nevada. They had been driving for at least five hours, and they hardly exchanged a word or two.

"I can't take it anymore, I need to have a conversation," Claire sighed, adjusting her seatbelt.

"Very well, Miss Redfield," Wesker said, keeping his eyes forward. "What would you like to talk about?"

That single sentence was the most he said to her since she decided to step inside this crazy adventure. She didn't want to talk about her condition, and she didn't want to start a fight with Wesker... at least not yet. She knew that her body was changing rapidly, but she didn't have enough confidence in her body to make her believe she could even scratch Wesker. It had only been about a day, and she missed Chris terribly. She knew that her decision to go with Wesker was selfish, but she couldn't allow Becca and Billy to suffer; she had to give them a chance. Her current situation was hanging by a very thin thread of hope. She wasn't even sure that Wesker would keep his word about curing her. She glanced over to him feeling the depression beginning to wallow.

If she lived through this, and she met up with her brother, he was going to be _pissed_. And Leon... she had never seen Leon look that way before. He had looked so helpless, like a lost boy. He was reaching for her, but she didn't reach back. Looking back at the moment, she wished she had more time to say something else to Leon, but all she could offer was an apology. This was a battle that she had to fight alone. There was more than enough negative thoughts running through her head; she needed a change.

"Where did you learn to dance?" she asked him.

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Clearly, he was expecting a different topic of conversation. Well, that's how she was going to play this game. She was going to keep throwing him curve balls. "Believe it or not, but I learned ballroom from my parents."

Claire leaned her head back on the headrest, feeling thrown for a loop. She had thought of Wesker as a monster for so long, she didn't even consider his past, let alone the fact that he was once human. It was so hard to imagine that he started out just like everybody else. "I can only imagine what they were like."

"I suppose the best way for you to understand my childhood is to think back on your acquaintance with Sherry Birkin," Wesker said in a monotone voice.

"Sherry?"

"Parents were never home, and the only things they taught were ambition and not to trust a soul. I believe William Birkin wasn't the best father figure in the eyes of a family oriented mind," Wesker explained.

Wesker was being quite chatty, and that raised a red flag for Claire. She had to be careful where she treaded or else she might give him information that he shouldn't be hearing. "Sherry turned out to be a very sweet girl," Claire countered.

"Children out of those types of homes develop into one of two characters, Miss Redfield. One type will develop into the shy, yet bright mind, and the other..."

"The other?"

Wesker took his eyes off the road for the first time and stared at her for a few seconds. "The other type you've learned to hate, Miss Redfield."

She had the urge to slap him just then, but she stopped herself. Lately, she had been more aggressive than usual. She had succumb to the desire of violence, and she regretted attacking Chris they way she did. Never in a million years did she want to hurt her own flesh and blood. Perhaps, the virus was making her more susceptible to aggression. It was a common trait in all the animals and infected she had come across. Man... basically, she'd be a pissed off female tyrant that was constantly PMSing. "Fan-freakin-tastic."

Then Wesker did something that utterly freaked her out. He reached out and tucked some of her hair behind her ear then returned to manning the steering wheel. "I suppose I could elaborate on what was injected into your body. I truly don't believe you will transform into something grotesque. You'll still be beautiful, but the virus will likely alter some of your physical traits."

She ignored the compliment, but she had to turn away in embarrassment. No one had ever called her beautiful in such seriousness before. Sure, Leon had thrown out compliments here and there for her, but he was always teasing her. "What changed for you?" she asked. "Besides the red eyes."

"How old do you believe I am, dear heart?" Wesker asked.

Claire thought about that for a moment. Chris had told her that Captain Wesker was an elite officer nearing his forties, but that didn't seem possible. "I would say... thirty?" she guessed, knowing her answer was wrong. The man before her was physically fit, toned, and strong. In the eyes of an ignorant female, it could probably be said that Wesker had the perfect body. And there wasn't a scar or scratch anywhere on his face.

"A compliment for a compliment, Miss Redfield," was all he said. "The virus seemed to have altered my body back to its physical prime, so I am quite curious to see what it will do for you."

"And if something goes wrong? Will you just let me suffer and die?" Claire asked.

Wesker stayed silent for the remainder of the trip. So much for a elongated conversation, but the exchange was welcome. In the last ten minutes, she probably had the most normal conversation with him than anyone he spoke to. Another half hour had passed by before Wesker turned into a wide rocky driveway.

"No way," Claire breathed, her eyes were gaping at the large mansion they had pulled up to. "No fucking way..." It was a mansion. Somehow, Wesker had managed to build an exact replica of the Spencer mansion that Chris and the other STARS were trapped in. It was only through research of newspaper articles and real estate homework that Claire was finally able to get a picture of the gigantic trap her brother had stepped into all those years before.

"Not to worry, Miss Redfield," Wesker said, putting the car into park. "There aren't nearly as many surprises in the mansion that we've had to deal with, but I will advise that you do not take the creatures inside lightly." He exited the car, and ascended the small stone steps up to the large double doors of the front entrance.

Claire felt unrelenting fear course through her. Who knew what was behind those doors. She tried to think back to Chris' stories, trying to map out the general blueprints in her head. According to Chris, there was supposed to be a dining hall to the left, a grand staircase in the middle, and...

Wesker opened the doors, and she was greeted with something entirely unexpected. They both walked into a large red lobby, but there was hardly anything inside. There was a single door to the left, and three doors to her right. A simple chandelier hung high above them and it was it was the only thing in the entire room that provided light. There were no windows, no form of décor, and Claire heard her heels click loudly against the mock marble tiles she walked on. "Love what you did with the place," she commented. "So now that I'm here, you'll release Rebecca and Billy?"

Wesker held up his index finger, and was beginning to hate that gesture. "I said once you are completely mine. Now if you would like to rest first before your first test, please enter the door to your left. If you would like to try and save your comrades, you can go through the first of the three doors to your right."

Claire wasn't going to waste anymore time bullshitting with him. If Becca was here, she was going to get her out. Chambers had improved her combat skills over time, but harming others simply was not in her nature. The younger girl relied heavily on her team when it came to seek and destroy, and she was the brains of the group. There was no telling how well Becca was coping. Claire tied her hair up, and shrugged off her jacket. "Do I at least get a gun?"

Surprisingly, Wesker tossed her his Glock 45 and the tac light attachment to it. "Seeing as though you do want to participate in the first test, I will mention that there is a time limit."

"Lovely..."

"The trick is, Miss Redfield, that the limit is set by you," Wesker said enigmatically.

"And what the hell does that mean?"

But Wesker only gestured toward the first door. "The test will start as soon as you enter."

Claire roughly tossed her jacket to Wesker. "Asshole..." she muttered. She didn't bother looking at his reaction. Keeping the Glock firmly in her grip, she attached the tac light and slowly opened the first door. With her thumb, she flicked the light on, keeping her aim chest high. She had entered into a small poorly lit hallway, but the texture of the walls had changed to sleek metal sheets. The temperature dropped significantly, and in the corners of the walls, she could see frost forming. It was sickeningly quiet. Claire took one soft step at a time, trying her best not to disturb the monsters she knew lurked in inside. She kept to her left side, hugging the wall, occasionally looking upward and behind her.

Something suddenly smacked into her side, tossing her into the right wall. When she gathered her footing, she aimed the light where she had been moments before. A giant indentation had been created from whatever ran into the wall from the opposite side. She wasn't looking forward to finding out what it was. She bolted for the door at the far end of the hallway, nearly slipping on the icy floor. Then she heard them. High pitch ape-like screeches filled her ears echoed through the air vents above her. They came down in front of her, crashing through the ceiling. One pounced on her, trying to scratch at her face. She landed hard on her back, but she held onto the Glock.

Eliminators always came in packs, so she had to act quickly. She could hear the others approaching her, their claws were dragging on the floor, making her ears ring. Nails on a chalkboard were a more welcome sound at the moment. She managed to push the Eliminator far enough from her body to slip her knee in between then, and then she kicked with all of her strength. The infected ape was sent flying down the hallway, and the others went in to attack.

In a flash, she was on her feet, her heart was beating rapidly. Being confined in such a small space was causing her to feel claustrophobic, and fighting for her life wasn't helping. Another Eliminator jumped on her back and bit down on her shoulder. She felt every single tooth tearing at her skin, and her blood ran cold as it trickled down her chest. She let out a pained cry, but she grabbed a chunk of its fur, clawing into its skin and pulled. Lowering her center of gravity, she threw the Eliminator over her shoulder, and fired one shot into its head.

Another came charging at her, and then it happened again. Time looked as though it was slowing down, just as it had when she caught the cup Chris had thrown at her. She was going to use everything to her advantage, so there was no use in being awe-struck. Within three steps, she reached the Eliminator. She turned on the ball of her left foot and delivered a powerful spinning kick to the ape's head, feeling the bone crush to pieces from the impact of her heel.

The last Eliminator jumped on her again, but this time she rolled backward using the momentum of the attack. Now she was on top of the Eliminator, and when it opened its gaping mouth , she stuck the Glock inside and fired one more shot.

Then all was quiet again.

Claire rolled onto her back, allowing air back into her lungs. She took several deep breaths, and wiped the sweat from her face. "Shit..." Well, she knew for a fact that she could still feel adrenaline. She rolled over once more, and tried to stand, but she began to feel lightheaded. The pain in the shoulder had decreased, and when she glanced over to see the wound, it had stopped bleeding. _'Guess that's a perk_,' she thought. With the first step she took, she almost fell down again. All of a sudden, she just felt drained, like her energy was being depleted, sucked away by an unknown force.

She slowly continued down the hallway, and made it to the first door. When she opened it, a bright light nearly blinded her. Wesker was sitting on a lush chair, apparently waiting for her. A large fireplace held blazing yellow and orange fire, and there were several couches and paintings that decorated the room. Above the fireplace she saw a mantel that held a Western Custom M37.

"So do I get an A?" she asked sarcastically, leaning most of her weight on the door frame. She grabbed at her shoulder, feeling a burning sensation when she touched the exposed skin. The Eliminator had ripped right through her shirt, and it took a moment for it to register that only half her shirt was still on her. Her vision blurred, and she fell to her knees. When she blinked to clear her vision, Wesker was by her side. The last thing she remembered was him carrying her in his arms, cradling her as though she were something that was precious to him.


	7. The Second Test

The female computerized voice spoke back in a simple monotone level. "Time for the regeneration process to be completed... eleven minutes and thirty-six seconds. Only thirty-five percent of the subject's strength was fully used." The computer beeped a few more times, showing him different strands of DNA on its monitor. Both strands belonged to Claire Redfield, but each represented different times of infection. Her "mutation" per say, was coming along quite nicely, but it was not going as fast as he would have hoped. Still though, this was crucial information to record.

Wesker typed in his password and authorized that the most recent files be kept in a private folder he had created, made especially for Claire. She had passed the first test with flying colors, but he was sure she believed that the test consisted just of the Eliminators. He knew that she could kill them without any real trouble; what he was counting on was the injuries that would be inflicted upon her. He needed to know how fast her body could heal given the time that had lapsed since the first time the virus was introduced into her system.

Twelve minutes was a rather long time to heal such a minor wound. He recalled that her shoulder had been ripped open due to a bite she had received. It was a gruesome sight when she had walked into the lounge, but he knew that for the next test, she wouldn't be so careless.

He heard a groan from her, signaling that she was waking. Carelessly, he pushed himself from the computer and turned in his chair to face the queen size bed she had occupied for the last six hours. He had remembered the first time he had infected himself with the virus. It took him several weeks to get used to the changes occurring in his body. Sleep had no longer become necessary, but his body still required rest to heal if he had ever fallen upon injury.

Claire pushed herself up onto her elbows, then fully sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her head snapped from side to side as she observed her surroundings. She moaned in dismay as she slowly turned to meet his gaze. "No, I am not a figment of your imagination," he said slyly. She jumped out of the bed and took a moment to look at her clothing. She gasped and gave him an accusing glare. "We're both adults here, Miss Redfield. And I certainly was not going to have you bleeding all over these finely crafted European sheets."

"You could have just left me on the floor," she snapped, turning her back on him in embarrassment.

"Noted," he replied before turning back to the screen. How foolish of her to be worrying about something as simple as him changing her clothing. She had a lot more coming her way, and yet she would rather waste her energy on shame. Regardless, on to the next test. If she hated him before, he was sure that this next test would make her feelings for him before look like she actually enjoyed his company.

Claire frowned when she saw that she was now wearing a simple black long sleeve shirt and loose yoga pants. She pulled on her jacket that had been discarded on the edge of the bed, still keeping her eyes averted away from Wesker. '_That bastard,'_ she thought. She looked to the right and saw a tall body mirror mounted on the wall. Memories of the Eliminators flashed through her thoughts, and she slowly walked up to the mirror while grabbing at the neck of the shirt, pulling down. She touched her perfectly healed shoulder, inspecting closely to see if there had at least been a few scars. There was nothing. There was no indication whatsoever that she had been attacked. "Freaky..." she breathed.

Then she saw herself as a whole. "Is that really me?" she asked. She touched her face and her neck. It was still her, but her features were more accented, and her lips were fuller. Her eyes were now a hazel color with swirls of gold. Not nearly as cat like as Wesker's eyes, but anyone that knew her would easily come to the conclusion that she was wearing contacts. She wished. She opened her mouth and gaped at her newly straightened teeth. There were always three teeth that weren't completely straight, but it never caused concern for braces. But now she could flash everyone a dazzling perfect smile. She supposed, she could be happy or even grateful that her little flaws were now fixed like magic, but it was far from the fact.

"Ready for your next test, dear heart?" she heard Wesker ask.

Not even Racoon City and Rockfort Island combined could amount to the terror that she now felt. Now, she was truly scared. It finally hit her that her life would never be the same again. Any hope of normality now lay with Wesker and his research, and the chances of him giving her the antidote were slim to none. There was also the scenario of the vaccine not even being capable of working. She had to accept that she would never make it out of the mansion alive. She would never see her brother again, and Leon... "I never..." she whispered, leaning her forehead against the mirror. "I never got the chance..." she said sadly. There had been so many chances and opportunities, but she never took one.

The tears came back and she kept her mouth closed, refusing to sob out loud. In just a moment's notice her life had been taken away from her. Umbrella had already taken out any innocence she had left, and now Wesker had stripped her of everything else. Her very last strand of comfort was hoping that her efforts had given children like Sherry hope of a better future. She balled up her hands and placed them on the mirror. She sniffed silently, hoping that Wesker wouldn't hear her, but she could feel his presence now. He was only but a few feet from her.

She felt a hand wrapping around her shoulders. One of Wesker's hands had snaked around, gently holding her while the other wrapped around her hip. His touch was very similar when they were dancing. He pulled her back from the mirror, forcing her to see them in the reflection. She stilled, half wondering that he would snap her neck or rip her apart. But nothing came. He just held her, and allowed her to cry out her frustrations. Even if it was Wesker, it felt good having the support of strong arms to lean against. This was all too much for her. She couldn't think straight, and she was confused and lost. She kept her head down, already ashamed that she found any form of comfort in her enemy's arms.

There was a beating that she could feel in between her shoulder blades. She blinked away the tears... could it be? She leaned back into his chest and her suspicions were confirmed. Wesker still had a heart that beats. If she thought she was confused as hell before, this completely through her for a loop. She turned in his arms, and placed her hand on his chest. It wasn't an illusion; beneath her fingertips, she could feel his pulse.

Suddenly, his fingers wrapped around hers and he pulled her hand away from him. He broke all physical contact from her as well, and she felt a sense of loss. That little bit of information about Wesker brought hope to Claire. Perhaps, he wasn't as indestructible as they all thought. Wesker walked to a door at the far end of the bedroom and opened it for her. "Your friends await you behind door number two, Miss Redfield, and may I suggest that you do not keep them waiting. You do not get any weapon this time."

Claire took a deep breath and walked through the door, entering into the the familiar bleak lobby. She didn't so much as grant Wesker a glance; she kept her eyes on the second door that stood in her way to freedom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Outside. The damn door led her outside and the sun was not going to be rising any time soon. There was a thin dirt path that lead deeper into the woods, so she placed all of her faith in following it. She hated how there was no direction, no indication of what was going to happen. Leaves, twigs, and pebbles crunched under feet, but otherwise, the woods were silent. The sky was cloudless, and the moon gave her a decent amount light, but she found that she didn't need to rely on it as much as the average human being. She could see her surroundings more clearly than she ever could with a flashlight and tac gear.

Just to be safe, she picked up a thick branch that could be used as a melee weapon and continued down the path. Minutes went by, and there was still no activity. Was this some sort of a sick joke? Her senses were on high alert, but they could not pick up anything. There wasn't a single sound in the entire forest. That was something else that bothered her. She couldn't hear, smell, or pick up anything of natural wildlife. Where were the animals? The bugs? Was she too late for Rebecca and Billy?

Moaning. In the far off distance she could hear the sounds of the undead, and she broke out into a sprint. The closer she came to the source, the more voices she could hear. Three... four... five she counted. With each passing second the number grew. Nine... ten... Horrific images of Rebecca and Billy being eaten alive forced her legs to go faster. She whipped by numerous branches, breaking through bushy barricades, and jumped over engorged roots. If she wasn't running to save lives, she would be excited that she could easily beat every Olympic athlete at their game. The power and strength was exhilarating, and she felt a liberation that she had never experienced before in her life. This feeling must be what Wesker coveted.

She reached a clearing and saw a group of the infected huddled in the center. Many of them were kneeling on the ground, feasting on a corpse, devouring every inch of flesh they could sink their rotting teeth into. On the ground, she saw another corpse lying motionless, half eaten. Seconds later, it was reanimated and the young woman began crawling, using its torn elbows to move closer to her. Claire dropped the branch she had been carrying, bringing her hands up to her mouth. Though the face had been torn beyond repair, she recognized the green shirt and medical pack that was loosely wrapped around the decayed waist. "No... no...!" Claire cried out in horror. "Becca... no!" She felt herself hyperventilating, and her knees buckled, causing to fall to the ground. Claire couldn't tear her eyes away from the mass that once was an angelic innocent face.

All she could see were the times that she and Becca had laughed and teased each other about Billy and Leon, staying up late at night when the boys were out. Becca had admitted that she looked up to Claire like an older sister that she never had. And equally, Claire had grown fond of the young medic; she had such a bright mind, and even Chris had vouched for her that despite her age and inexperience, she had held her own in the Spencer mansion. Now all that remained was a corpse that no longer resembled Rebecca Chambers.

Claire's heart began to break further when she grabbed the thick branch again and held it above her head. "I'm so sorry, Becca," Claire sobbed. "I hope you always knew that I loved you like you were my own family..." Claire brought the branch down, crushing the corpse's head in. She let out a sob when she felt the bones break, feeling guilt and remorse. If she only had come sooner.

The other infected were now aware of her presence, and came shuffling towards her. A deeper level of rage and hatred spiked through her body, and she gripped the tree branch tighter, her fingers breaking through the bark itself. She stood and took out the nearest body, swinging with all of her might, easily decapitating the unsuspecting zombie. "Go to hell!" she screamed. They came closer to her, but she knocked them all back. She punched, kicked, pushed, stomped and crushed anything that came near her. Blindly, she fought off the small horde, feeling her satisfaction grow every single time one of them fell at her feet, no longer able to rely on the virus to reanimate them. Somewhere in this group, she knew that Billy was among the wave of infected, and she lashed out at every single one of them making sure that she brought peace to Becca's friend.

Claire took one more swing and found that she only slashed through air. When she looked around, she found that every zombie had been killed. Piles of bodies littered the forest, and the blood of the undead saturated the rocky grounds. If someone asked her to recall everything, she wouldn't have been able to provide an answer. It was in blind rage and fury that she unleashed on the horde of zombies, and she would have done it all again if given the second chance. There was no way she could have survived on her own if she had not been infected. How's that for irony... She didn't know what else to do. Claire fell to her knees and cried.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chris took another sip of water, downing the tylenol he had popped into his mouth. He had been unable to sleep since Claire had left. Part of him wanted to tear the world apart looking for his sister and when he found her, he'd have to kick her ass for causing him a near heart attack. But the other part of him was so proud of her for making such a selfless act. It was only because she cared so much for them that she had left. How completely Redfield of her. Their parents would no doubt be proud of their little girl.

He and Leon had spent the last two days, sitting in the living room, waiting for her to come back. They hardly talked to each other, but it wasn't due to dislike or being uncomfortable in the other's presence. He now saw that Leon genuinely cared for Claire, and he was just as messed up over the whole ordeal as he was. Despite the chances, neither of them gave up hope. He and Leon would spend the day gathering any leads on Claire's whereabouts, but they trained her too well. She covered up her tracks, and anything that she may have left behind, Wesker could have easily taken care of.

There was a knock at the door. Chris waited a moment before there was another set of two knocks following by three slaps against the door. It had been their secret code, signaling that the person on the other side was friendly. When he opened the door, he was relieved to their youngest member greeting him with a large smile. "Glad to see you're alive, shorty," Chris said, stepping aside. "Sit down, I got stuff to tell you." He took her bags, and set them on the couch.

Rebecca Chambers looked worried, but did as she was asked. "What's up, Chris?"


	8. The Third Test

Rebecca looked over the notes that Chris and Jill had managed to salvage from their latest visit to the lab in Paris. She was thankful that the notes were still in tact for the most part, and even though the Anti-Umbrella leaders weren't familiar with scientific terminology, they had recovered very interesting records. Her large brown eyes scanned over the crumpled up papers she displayed over the coffee table. She reached for her backpack and pulled out a large 3 inch binder full of her research on the T and G viruses.

She heard the others entering the kitchen. The scraping of plates and forks told her that they were hungry for the eggs and sausages she had made earlier. "Anything?" Chris asked, taking a seat behind her.

Rebecca raised her arms and stretched. Sitting on the carpet was taking a toll on her back, but everything she had taken in so far was well worth her trip. "I've come across some interesting points about this new virus that Wesker had developed. You see this here?" she passed a paper to Chris. On it were simple drawing of cells from the POV of a microscope. Different shaded cells were labeled, and many of the cells were in the midst of joining into one.

"Pretty drawing, but I don't know what it means," Chris said.

"Looks like they're getting along just fine," Leon commented, drinking freshly brewed coffee.

Rebecca snapped her fingers in approval. "Exactly. In many cases, the cells infected with the virus tended to multiply, and it was because of their inability to coexist that there have been results like the reanimation of inanimate beings."

Jill took the paper from Chris' fingers. "So what you're saying is that the virus is actually doing what it's supposed to do?"

Rebecca nodded her head, and opened her binder to a specific page and lifted it so that everyone could see. "It wasn't really until the end of my little field trip that adventure was worth much." She showed them graphs and charts displaying a variety of tests and control groups. "I managed to steal some data from key executives that couldn't be directly tied to Umbrella, but it looks like they were investigating a new strand of the G-virus. However, the samples were stolen from them. Now that Wesker has resurfaced, I'm willing to bet that he is the one to have taken them."

"Or a subordinate of his..." Leon said darkly. "Can you give us anything on Claire?"

Rebecca flipped over to another page. "Don't freak out, but the virus is likely taken over her entire body," she hurried on when she saw Chris biting his lip, "but the good news is that this strand of the virus that has likely invaded Claire's blood is..."

"Well?" Chris persisted.

She pulled the binder back and traced her fingers over the picture of the DNA strand that represented the virus. In a way, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "Well, you see, it's perfect. It is capable of enhancing the limitations of the human body and then some. And on top of that it does not promote the said "zombie" effect in its subjects."

Rebecca could visibly see the relief on Chris' face, and she wished that she had returned earlier to deliver the news. She had no idea that so much had happened since her departure a couple months ago. Jill gave her an encouraging pat on the back. "Nice job, Becca," Jill smiled. "How'd you get all this info? I don't doubt your abilities, but I'm sure this stuff was hard to come by."

"I had some unexpected help," Rebecca said in a cheerful tone. She could feel her smiler grow large when her cell phone began to vibrate. She answered it, and put it on speaker phone. "Hey! I want you to meet my group. Why don't you introduce yourself before you get here."

The voice on the other end had a bit of static, but was otherwise clear. "Nice to meet the famed Anti-Umbrella group Rebecca has spoke so highly of," said a light masculine voice.

"And who might you be?" Chris asked curiously.

"Billy Coen reporting for duty, sir."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Apparently, another perk to her condition was the ability to hold her breath for a period of time that extended six minutes. Claire saw the air bubbles floating to the top of the water surface in her bathtub, and she cursed herself. Drowning herself would take forever. She sat up, and wiped the water from her face and squeezed excess water out of her hair. There wasn't any steam on the mirrors of the bathroom, so the water must have run cold. She couldn't even tell; her body wouldn't register temperature anymore.

She stood and walked across the bathroom floor, dripping wet, not bothering to towel dry herself. On top of the nightmares she experienced at night, she now had to deal with the guilt of letting her friend die in the most horrible way possible. She put on a white robe that Wesker had provided for her, and exited the bathroom. She was beyond pissed off.

He had lost any hold her had on her now that Becca and Billy were gone, so there was no point in staying. She had thought about running away in the forest shortly after her breakdown had ceased, but she wasn't going to run like a coward. No, she was going to tell him exactly how she felt and if she died in the process, then maybe Becca would forgive her in the afterlife.

Claire found him in a large dining hall on the second floor of the mansion. He was reading something, sitting comfortably in one of the end chairs. A stack of folders and binders surrounded him, keeping his attention averted from her. She grabbed the spine of the book and ripped it from his hands. "How dare you!" she hissed, slamming her hand on the table. "You gave me absolutely no chance to save them! I did everything you asked, and for what?" Claire felt the anger returning. Her blood literally felt hot, and her heart began to beat faster.

Wesker took off his sunglasses and stared at her. "And how does that make you feel, dear heart?" he asked her. He was so damn calm about the whole thing that she was on the brink of losing control. One more push, and she was going to snap. "How did it make you feel that regardless of your new abilities that you couldn't save the lives that meant so much to you?"

"Don't you mock me," Claire said, narrowing her eyes at him. She backed up a step when he stood, challenging her presence. This was the only opportunity she had to stand against him, and she wasn't going down without a fight.

"Who did you kill first? The ex-lieutenant? Or did you find it obligatory to murder your friend first to put her out of her misery?"

Claire couldn't take it anymore. She spit on Wesker. "Go to hell!"

In a fraction of a second, Claire could feel the impact of his fist against her cheek. The force of the attack, pushed her back into a wall. She brought her hand up to face, feeling the burning sensation of pain on her cheek. She had been cut, stabbed, shot at, and broken several bones, but no one had ever hit her in such a way. That was all she needed. In two steps, she reached Wesker and returned the gesture, feeling her fist collide with his jaw. He had backed away a couple of steps, but she wouldn't give him the time to recover. She picked up a chair and swung it at his head, but he ducked and kicked her legs from underneath her.

She fell on her back, now seeing nothing but the bare white ceiling. Dear God, the man was fast; she didn't even see him. When she blinked, she saw Wesker's knee coming straight for her face, and she rolled out of the way. She heard the floor break under the powerful blow, and she was thanking God that her reflexes were kicking in. She was now under the table, and much to her joy, she found a Magnum strapped directly above her. Claire ripped it from its holster, and aimed at Wesker's feet. She fired off one round. "Dammit!" she spat when his feet were no longer there. She heard him running on top of the table, and her instincts told her to haul ass.

Rolling once more, she quickly got to her knees and dove out of the way. The table was then smashed to pieces, papers and folders went flying in every direction. She turned and aimed once more, firing off two more shots. The recoil of the Magnum was hardly a consequence for her; it felt like she was shooting a toy gun. Wesker dodged both bullets and came charging at her. He dodged a third bullet before he grabbed her by the neck and forced her into a wall.

Claire's feet were dangling as Wesker hoisted her higher, tightening his grip on her throat. How reminiscent. This was exactly how she remembered the STARS captain. But things were different now. She pressed her feet against the wall and used it as leverage to knee him in his solar plex. He grunted in discomfort, losing his grasp on her. She used the wall for balance and delivered a swift roundhouse to his head, knocking him aside. She was happy to see his body make an indentation in the wall, but her small victory was very short lived. Wesker came back with such force, Claire had no idea what hit her. It was only from her body's reaction that she felt she was struck in her torso. The punch Wesker had landed caused her to feel a sharp pain, and she was thrown backwards. She landed on the wooden debris, unable to gain any balance to push herself up.

Seconds later, Wesker was on top of her, grabbing her wrists, and pinning down her legs with his weight. She thrashed around like a wild animal, trying everything she could think of to throw him off of her, but she failed. His grip was strong, and while she had drained all of her energy, he had hardly broken a sweat. "Most impressive, dear heart," Wesker said in approval. When she stilled, her golden eyes met his fiery red gaze.

Now aware of her position, she felt a blush rise up on her cheeks. She was completely at his mercy, and she wasn't even fighting back anymore. She did what she could, and it hardly made a difference. It was sickening really. But there was something about the whole fight that kept nagging at her. Something in his maneuvers made her doubt that he was trying to kill her. She had a feeling that he could have unleashed more power if he wanted, and she wouldn't be able to walk for a few weeks. Her breathing began to slow and she could feel his breath on her lips. The bastard was breathing normal, and here she was trying her best to regain her depleted energy.

In her late twenties, and she never experienced real life. Before she could even go on a proper date, Raccoon City called and ripped away any means of a normal life she could ever have. It pained her that never could grow up like a normal woman. Deep down in her heart, she envied all of her friends who had married young or eloped for the sake of experiencing the thrills of life. Back then, she would have told them that was the craziest thing they could do, but now she wished she could switch lives with them.

She was an amateur when it came to things like dating and romance, but put a gun in her hand and she was deadly. Not a very even trade off. Her heart fluttered at times when she saw Leon, but she never knew how to handle it. Most girls would probably go off and tell their friends about their new crush, but her outlet was going to the shooting range and taking out a few targets. Just once she wanted to know what it was like. If she ever found something that could grant wishes, all she would ask her for was someone she could give herself freely to. Someone who would accept her for all that was. Every happy ending she could fantasize about was now thrown away before she even had a chance to fully grasp the concept. Her heart felt heavy again, and she was saddened.

Wesker still loomed over her, and he made no move to further harm her, but he wasn't rushing to push himself off of her either. He was so close to her; she could feel his eyes traveling over her face. There was something else that she felt in the back of her mind. There was some type of connection, but every time she reached for it, the connection faded. It was that feeling that kept her from fully hating the man above her. She couldn't place her finger on the feeling, but her heart would always pull her back when she was the verge of hating him.

Her rage had left her, and now she was only a woman who yearned the touch of another, enemy or not. She was out of her mind for asking this, but she wanted to know what it felt like at least once before she died. "Before you kill me," Claire said in a hushed whisper. "I know it means nothing to you, but I..."

"Say no more, dear heart," Wesker said as if he read her mind, he closed his eyes and lowered his lips to hers. It was a very soft kiss; it held no menace, no fury, yet no love either. She knew Leon's kiss would feel different against her lips; it just had to, but that would never happen now. She never thought she'd ever be grateful to Wesker for anything, but this one little gesture meant more to her than she would ever admit. Not wanting to ever forget what a first kiss felt like, she kissed him back, letting her eyes drift close, imagining that there was no virus, no Umbrella, no underground war. There was just two people sharing an intimate moment.

He broke the kiss and began trailing soft nips down her neck, forcing her to look to the side. She couldn't feel cold or hot, but for some reason she could feel everything he offered her. Her eyes rested on an enlarged photo of Becca and Billy strapped to medical tables. It was slightly different than the photo Wesker had showed her days before. This one was more detailed, more clear. She blinked in surprise when she saw the woman's face she believed to be Rebecca. '_What the..._' she thought. Her eyes darted over to the man. Rebecca had said that there was a defining feature on Bill's arm. A large tattoo that couldn't go unnoticed unless he was wearing a long sleeve shirt. The man on the table had no tattoo on either arm, and the woman was clearly not Rebecca Chambers.

She felt Wesker pull away after he had nipped her neck several times. He stood to his feet, and offered her his hand. Claire was too shocked to even move. "As much as I am enjoying the view, Miss Redfield, I do believe I should let you know that you passed the third test."

Claire looked down at her body, now aware that the robe was barely covering her from his eyes. She sat up sharply, and retied the robe, ignoring his hand to help her. Her hands fell limply at her sides. "That wasn't Becca..." she said as a statement.

Wesker picked up the photos of the laboratory, and shook the dust off of them. "No, that was not Miss Chambers."

A large burden was suddenly lifted from her. "But why? Why go through all that trouble to make me believe she had died? Or that you even had her to begin with?" Claire asked, still staring at the spot where the photo had been. A new wave of emotion flooded her being. She didn't know if she should try to kill Wesker for tricking her in such a cruel manner or if she should celebrate knowing that Becca was still alive.

"If you have not noticed by now, Miss Redfield, the benefits of the virus are only activated when you are emotional. Despite what you think or feel, you do not possess enough hate for me to trigger the effects of the virus in your body. I did what I had to, for research's sake," Wesker explained.

Everything was a lie. He really didn't have Becca or Billy; she didn't really kill Becca with her own hands. "You said I passed the third test..." Claire said still surprised with the turn of events.

"Ah, yes," Wesker said. "The third test was me."

She finally looked at him. "Come again?"

"I needed to see how you would fare against the virus flowing through my veins, and you have not disappointed."

That manipulative son of a bitch. She was torn between wanting to wring his neck and the desire to call Becca. The latter won. _Rebecca's not dead!_ The thought kept repeating itself over and over in her head. Her guilt had washed away just like that, and she couldn't suppress the happiness she felt. If she ever got out of here, she could see that sweet innocent face again. She could have popcorn nights, and have Becca teach her about biology again. First thing she'd do if she ever saw Becca again was give the young prodigy a massive bear hug. Claire wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her mid-section. Another day and another surprising twist, courtesy of Albert Wesker. If she didn't keep her emotions in check, she would have another breakdown, but this one would be much happier. "Becca..." she said, closing her eyes, feeling a tear slide down her face.

"Miss Redfield..." Wesker said, but Claire cut him off with a powerful kiss.

There was no logic behind the gesture other than that she was so happy he didn't truly have Becca, but he wouldn't get away without consequence. The moment she pulled away, she punched him in the jaw, this time knocking him back a few more steps than last time. "That's for being an asshole," Claire said before leaving the dining room.


	9. Reunion of Old Friends

Wesker fell over catching himself on the computer desk. He placed a hand over his heart. It had been the third palpitation that had severely affected him in the last seventy-two hours. No matter what he did, or how many tests he ran, he could not find the source of the uncomfortable pangs. They had started small since the day he ran into Claire Redfield at the holiday party, but they were becoming stronger and more painful as of late. The first time he felt them subside was at the cafe in Paris. There was one common factor that he found when the murmurs in his heart started and became more abrupt and when they became calm, and that factor was Claire.

He had tested the theory after she had completed her first test. The actual physical contact with her body had caused the pains to stop completely. His theory was once again proven correct just two days ago when Claire had fought with him. The closeness of their bodies had made him forget all about the condition of his heart, and he felt invincible once again. But now it had been a day and a half since he had seen her, and the latest abnormal palpitation had caused him much discomfort.

It had been years since he had been able to feel any level of pain, so the new rush of feeling came unexpected. He had a few more theories to experiment with, but one thing was for certain. Claire Redfield had become more than just a pawn in this game. He needed her close to him for the time being until he was able to break this odd connection between them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Gross," Leon said as he inspected an oozing purple vial he had taken from the tray that Rebecca had set up. The young girl snatched it from his grasp and clicked her tongue at him.

"Didn't your parents teach you not to mess with things you don't understand," Becca said, but her tone was far from harsh. She gently set the vial back down, and continued to look through the microscope she had been immersed with for the past three hours.

Leon looked over her shoulder. "Anything interesting?"

Becca leaned back and pinched the bridge of her nose trying to ease the pain that seemed to build up. "Not really. I wish I had a sample of what Claire's blood, and then maybe I could get somewhere with all of this." She picked up some paper and a pen, and began jotting down several notes. "The best that I can even hypothesize is that Claire is in no real danger, virus-wise. Like I said, according to these notes, she should be in top shape." Becca realized she had been droning on, and Leon had started dazing again, but there was more of a worried look in his eyes. The poor guy was worried sick, and he hadn't been sleeping or eating much. She poked him in the ribs. "Least you don't have a tyrant as a girlfriend," Becca joked.

Leon gave her a small smile when he snapped out of it. "Yeah, wouldn't that just be my luck."

Chris came through the main entrance, setting his keys aside. "Found something you might like," he smirked at Becca.

Becca saw a tall man behind Chris, a baseball cap covered his eyes. When Chris stepped to the side, she knew exactly who it was. The man raised his chin, his eyes immediately finding her. She couldn't stop the smile from growing wider, and jumped to her feet. She rushed over to him, but stopped herself before she threw her arms around him.

Billy took off the baseball cap, and ran his hand through his now short dark hair. He set down his bags and leaned down to give her a light hug. "How you doing, princess?" he asked, giving her a wink.

"Don't call me princess," Becca said, trying to act like she was upset. She finally found enough courage to meet his gaze. They had met up in the strangest time and place, but nothing could have prepared her for the joy she felt when she saw him. He was alive and well, and best of all, the search for him had been called off due to all the attention Umbrella had received. Viral outbreaks and secrets of underground laboratories were far more important than finding an escaped fugitive.

"How was your trip?" she asked him, attempting to calm her pulse. She wasn't in denial that she had become attracted to him initially back on the Ecliptic Express, but she had learned to deal with her feelings with every year that went by. Now that he was in front of her, those feeling resurfaced, and whether it was for good or bad, she had no idea.

Billy shrugged off his jacket, and she could see the bottom of the Motherlove tattoo on his arm. She heard Leon whistle. "Wow, she wasn't kidding when she said you had a massive paint job done."

Becca rolled her eyes, and took Billy's jacket from him. She was glad when Billy didn't take any offense to the statement. "Trip was fine. I'm a little jet lagged though." He stuck his hand out to Leon. "Billy."

Leon accepted the handshake. They seemed to stay locked on each other for a few moments longer than needed. Finally, Leon stepped back, giving Billy a sly smile. "Nice to have you aboard. Chris, I need your help out back."

"You got it," the older Redfield said, before leaving out the back door.

Becca scoffed. "Boys." She hung Billy's jacket on a coat rack and grabbed him a glass of water. "Just take it easy for a while, Billy."

He found himself a spot on the couch, accepting the water graciously. "Thanks." There was an awkward silence that loomed over them. When she really thought about it, they didn't have the time to play catch up. She had broken into the main executive offices of the building that served as the the information technology source for Umbrella back in the day. It took some time, but she was able to track down old records of Umbrella's and some new ones as well. And surprise, surprise, there were some offices that even the higher ups didn't know about, and Becca made an extra trip to the hidden lower levels. It was there that she learned about Billy.

Apparently, Wesker had kept tabs on Billy since the incident with Dr. Marcus, but everything had been kept a secret. The ex-captain was intent on either annihilating or buying out anyone who had witnessed the effects of the virus up front. Billy, of course, had refused the money, immediately placing him on a list of names that were to be sent to the research labs for testing.

While she had been scanning through the files, his name caught her attention. With a bit of negotiating, she had persuaded a guard to free Billy. She didn't think she had it in her to keep a human being hostage while pointing a gun to his head, but her performance even made her believe she was a deadly assassin.

_"I said give me the keys!" Becca snapped, shoving the barrel of the gun into the guard's head. She disguised her voice as best as she could, and she kept a scarf wrapped around most of her face. _

_The guard was too scared to move; he just kept shaking and praying that she wouldn't kill him. She couldn't waste anymore time, so she just swung as hard as she could and knocked him out cold. In a matter of minutes, another guard could walk by, so she dug into the man's pockets, searching desperately. Her fingers wrapped around a group of small keys and she jumped for joy. _

_The file said Billy was held in cell 308. She traveled down the hallway, avoiding cameras along the way. She had to go through two more sets of hallways, before she found the three hundred level. A large metal door marked with the large white numbers 308 stood between her and Billy Coen. The three by six inch window was too high for her to look through, but she had to place her faith that her friend was behind the door. She tried several keys before she found the right one that fit the lock. She pushed open the door and rushed inside. _

_It was empty. "No..." she said in disbelief. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her throat and her defensive reflexes kicked in. In a perfect one hundred and eighty degree angle, she kicked the face just above hers. Then she followed up by crushing her heel in the man's foot and elbowed him in the gut. She pushed forward, breaking free of his hold. In one solid motion, she whipped around, grabbed her weapon, and aimed her handgun at her attacker. "Billy!" she said in surprise, instantly recognizing him. _

_Billy wiped the blood that trickled down from his nostrils, looking at his hands, then at her. She pulled down the scarf, hoping that her hair wasn't too messed up. "It's me," she said, holstering her weapon. "It's Rebecca... do you remember me?" He continued to stare at her as though he expected __her to disappear at a moment's notice. "The train-" was all she could get out before he picked her up in a massive hug. _

_"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said. She could feel his lips against the bare skin between her neck and shoulder. The years had been good to him as well. His muscles remained toned, and he looked as fit as ever. When he set her down, she reached up and touched his face. _

_"I can't believe it," she said on the verge of tears. She shook her head, trying to regain focus. "We're getting out of here. Come on!" she said, pulling on his arm. _

Four levels of laboratory mazes, three guards, and a car jacking later, and they were at the airport. Billy said he had to retrieve some of his belongings, but he would rendezvous with her in a few days. She gave him their current residence and prayed that they would meet again. And here they were. 

Becca blushed remembering what she had done to him. "Sorry about your nose.. and your foot," she said nervously.

But Billy just laughed. "Are you kidding? That was the most impressive thing I've ever seen you do." They shared a chuckle, but the tension came back. Billy leaned forward, interlocking his hands, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I tried looking for you," he admitted.

"You were?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah... I knew you were part of STARS and ever since the incident with the Spencer mansion, I tried to look for you again. But, as you know, the mansion was completely destroyed, and the STARS were discredited. I knew you and the others had to have gone in hiding, but I never stopped trying to look for you." He looked at her with such an intense stare, it gave her goosebumps up and down her arms.

Memories of the past years went through Becca's mind, and she felt a bit guilty that she wasn't able to put in as much effort into finding him. "I tried to find leads on you," she said softly. "When we weren't destroying Umbrella from the inside, I tried to do a bit of investigative work, but I could never find anything. It was only by chance did I find you."

He held out his hand to her, and she placed her fingers on his palm. He pulled her toward him, asking her to sit next to him. When she nestled into his side, he wrapped his arm around her. "I never forgot what you did for me," he said. "I owe you my life, two times over now."

Becca smiled, bringing her feet up on the couch, enjoying his embrace. "Not bad for a little girl, eh lieutenant?"

Billy pursed his lips then laughed again. "Trust me, you're not the same as I remember. You've grown up. I think you should keep growing out your hair." When he turned to see her, the playfulness had left his features. "Do they still come at night?"

Becca nodded, resting her chin on her knees. "Sometimes. But it's gotten easier to deal with. Chris and the others have taught me a lot, and I've been able to control most of my nightmares. But I'll tell you, I can never truly look at a leech the same ever again."

He brought her closer to him. "Same here. Listen, I'll do what I can to help out your friends, but just know that I wanted to be here because I wanted to see you again." He leaned closer and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

She closed her eyes and took her time cherishing the one moment she had to herself, away from the nightmare she had placed herself in the middle of.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Claire's body was wracked with a searing pain, and she fell out of her bed. The pain seemed to spread throughout her entire body, pulsating in intervals of three. Her stomach, her chest, her head, her legs and arms were burning up in a high fever, and no matter what she did, she could not find any comfort. _'It has to be the virus!'_ she thought. Something had gone wrong with the virus in her blood, and now it was killing her. She tried to stand on her feet, but she stumbled over and knocked down a vase.

She writhed on the floor, screaming in pain. How long did she have to suffer before she could die in peace? It was the worst feeling ever to be inflicted upon her, and she believed she was transforming into a monster. She saw Wesker break down the door to her room and run to her. He had a syringe in one hand, and before she could blink, the needle had been plunged into her neck. Immediately, the pain had stopped.

He lifted her up and set her on the bed, but he did not leave her side. Instead, he kept running his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her. Claire swallowed, "you should have just let me die," she said in between gasps.

"Your death would only be beneficial if your brother were here to witness it," he said.

It was a strange way of comforting her to say the least, but she couldn't have expected more from Wesker. She turned away from him, but he kept his hand on her. It traveled down to her waist, resting on her hip. "Any idea why my perfectly good dream was interrupted?"

She could feel his other hand playing with her hair. "And what was this perfect dream?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Claire had no idea why she felt comfortable confiding in him, but she felt she deserved to have someone listen to her lifelong wish. "I was normal," she said. His silence told her she could continue. "Not just free of the virus. But the world I dreamed didn't have the T virus, it didn't have Umbrella. I was just riding freely on my motorcycle, and I came home to a loving family. And I saw my parents and Chris... Everyone was so happy..."

She felt her eyes closing, and her consciousness beginning to leave. Something about being close to Wesker gave her a sense of shelter. The fever left her body, and whatever invaded her earlier was now gone. She fell asleep to the tender touches she was receiving from the most enigmatic man she had ever met in her life.


	10. Rescue

His fingertips trailed down the skin at her lower back, and then moved back up to her neck. She could feel every breath he exhaled on her bare shoulder. She kept her back to him, but that did not shield her from the fact that she had given Wesker her most precious treasure. "Will you let me go?" she asked, giving into the caresses. He was quiet as he had been the night before. There were hardly any vocal exchanges between both parties, but there was no need for words. The need to feel his body against hers had won, and she had given herself to him completely.

When she awoke from her slumber, she found that he had still been with her. He ran his lips from her ear to the nape of her neck, and then that connection she felt before returned. It wasn't love. It wasn't even desire. All she knew was that her body relied on his presence, and it was only him that could give her comfort. She let his hands roam over her body, and she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the touch. He slowly undressed her, but his mouth never left her skin.

It was the most gentle he had ever been with her, and she had a sneaking suspicion she was the only one to feel such caresses. During, her body had felt whole, and after, she felt complete. The virus in her urged her to stay close to him, and she was glad that he continued to stay by her. "Why do you insist on keeping me here?" she asked again. "You've finished your tests, haven't you? I know you probably don't intend on giving me an antidote, so please... just let me die."

"I can't do that, dear heart," he said to her, holding her. "Tell me, would you just go back to your brother and to Kennedy? Are you just going to leave just to die in their arms?"

Claire shook her head, burrowing further into her pillow. "No... I don't want them to see me like this. I can go somewhere, anywhere far away. No one will know." And she meant every word. She couldn't bear to see Chris' face above her, mourning her. She couldn't do that to him.

"Then what is so wrong about spending the rest of your days with an enemy?" Wesker asked.

She sniffed, trying to keep her emotions stable. She turned in his arms to face him. Usually, she couldn't read his face. Everything about him was a secret. His motives, his agendas, his mind was well guarded, but since she had come here, he was slowly opening up to her. It could be trap; hell, it was mostly likely a corner he was backing her into. But there something that she saw now, that made her doubt he meant her harm. He probably still intended to destroy his enemies, destroy her brother, and become the most powerful man in the world, but he wouldn't harm her. "I won't be apart of your destructive plans. I can't."

"I wouldn't ask you to, Claire," he said, pressing forward to capture her in another kiss. He moved over her, and she was his to claim once more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Yes!" cried Jill, causing everyone to jump up in alarm. It taken more than calling in a favor to get the information she needed. It wasn't easy hacking in the system, but all of her hard work had paid off. She waited for a few pictures to print, impatiently tapping her fingers on the desk. Once the last black and white photo had been spit out from the printer, she ran down the stairs, nearly colliding into whom she considered Becca's boyfriend. "Sorry, Billy," she said nervously. She jumped down the last few steps, running straight into Chris' arms.

It was always adorable to see such a puzzled look on his face. Chris always prided himself on the leader of the Anti-Umbrella group, and it was in the tiny boyish moments he had that made her fall for him over again. She was grateful that he was able to keep their relationship and their work separate, knowing full well that if he showed favoritism towards her, he might jeopardize their mission. At the same time, he showed her a great deal of affection whenever he could.

"Whoa!" he said in surprise, instinctively placing his hands on her hips. "What's got you riled up?"

"Do you or do you not love me?" she asked excitedly with a large victorious smile. She pushed away from him and set the photos down on the dining table for everyone to see. "You need to see these." From the opposite side of the table, she grabbed a pair of combat knives and shoved them into her boots.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" Chris asked. Jill ignored him, and pushed a packet of papers in his face. There wasn't a moment to lose. The confirmation she received minutes ago was enough to have the team packing and ready for departure. She turned her back on him again and began grabbing ammo and a tac vest.

"Leon, get ready to roll!" she shouted outside from the kitchen window. "Tell me what you see?" Jill called out over her shoulder to Chris. She reached for her holsters and put them on, checking her guns for ammo.

"Where are we going?" Leon asked, coming into the living room. Leon didn't bother looking at her like a crazy woman preparing for war. He began doing the same, grabbing weapons and ammo. She was grateful that one of the guys was reading her mind. Leon and her weren't very close, but she respected him greatly. Leon was one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, and it was thanks to his help that Claire had made it out of the city before it was destroyed. He had helped a great deal with their team, and he always gave one hundred and ten percent. Well, if her hunch was right, he was going to have to pitch in a hundred and fifty percent for this round.

"They look like flight numbers," Chris said, turning over the pages. "Hey, what, Jill what are you doing?" He tried to stop her when he saw her throwing a few more guns into a travel pack.

"Look at the number I circled," Jill said, not missing a beat, shrugging him off. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed some sandwiches and bottles of water.

"Flight 7834, from Paris," Chris said, still not making the connection.

"And now look at the photos that I just happened to "borrow" from the airport security from Paris thanks to our friends in France," Jill smiled, kicking the refrigerator door closed with her toes.

Rebecca made an appearance, yawning. "What's going on?"

Jill tossed the unsuspecting girl her backpack. "Get ready to go, Chambers. We got work to do."

Becca knew that tone in her voice, and the sleep was washed from the girl's face. She and Billy began packing whatever they could.

Chris set down the packet of flight numbers and looked down at the blurry black and white photos. "Jesus..." he gasped, leaning closer as though he was making sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Jill patted him on the shoulder when she joined him at the table. "That's right," she said, pointing toward two figures in the photos. "That's Wesker, and that's Claire." She moved that particular photo aside, and pointed to one of the private jets that they had entered. "Look at the wing. 7834."

"Claire," Chris breathed. In a matter of minutes, he had gather all of his gear, moving faster than she had ever seen him.

Becca jumped up and down with joy, hardly able to contain her happiness. "So that means..."

Jill popped in a fresh clip into her beloved Desert Eagle. "That's right. We're headed for Battle Mountain Airport in Nevada."

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AN: Short, I know. But the idea came, and I needed to get it down in a document. I'm throwing out the chapters as I'm writing them, but I do promise the next one will be longer than this. Thank you to everyone who is reading. I hope you are enjoying the ride.

Kris


	11. The Emptiness Inside

Wesker had left her in a small medical room, completely furnished with four white bare walls, a long wooden table and a medical chair that had thick straps hanging from the corners. She shuddered. _How many people were used for testing down here? _The room was relatively clean; she half expected it to be covered in blood and random body parts. She sat on the chair, letting her feet rest against the legs of the chair that were bolted into the ground. She began thinking about how it must have felt for any poor soul that was left behind being trapped in here. Had it been her, strapped down, being injected with numerous needles and having machines hooked up to her, she would have gone mad. She looked at her hands with newfound respect. It wouldn't take much to rip herself free, and to escape.

He had told her that she wouldn't mutate into a monster, and she believed him. It was so tempting to leave, to go back to Chris and the others. But she couldn't live like this. She wasn't able to feel anymore... the human part of her was dying. She thought about all the happy memories that would usually bring her joy, but now she couldn't feel that warmth in her heart. Even smiling had lost its meaning. She didn't feel the need to smile or laugh. How long would it be before she wouldn't be able to feel regret, sadness, guilt... or maybe that was all she was capable of feeling now. Was that why Wesker had become the man he is?

Even when he was the corrupt captain the STARS team, he must have felt things. He must have cared for something at one point in his life. He had told her that his parents were never around, or at least that was how she had understood their conversation on the ride to the mansion. How young was he when he began to feel abandoned? Could he actually have become a caring and honest man if he wasn't raised by the ways of a tainted world? There were so many questions, and there were so many scenarios that ran through her mind. But this is the path that Wesker had walked down whether he intended to or not, and she had to deal with it.

One of the doors had slid open, and Wesker walked in with a laptop and a small metal case. He set them on the table, and turned the laptop on. "I require a blood sample, Miss Redfield," he said in that monotone voice of his.

Claire stood and rolled up a sleeve, wondering what was going on in that crazy head of his. He was the same man, but his "moods", if she could call them that, had changed. When they were together, Wesker was gentle, but not romantic. He kissed her many times, but there was no passion. Perhaps, he just wasn't capable of being either. She no longer hated him, but at the same time, she did not love him. The connection between them held no emotion or feeling, but she believed that if she was not infected, she would have fallen for him like a love sick school girl. A thought struck her.

"Wesker..." she asked.

"Yes, Miss Redfield," he said, preparing the syringe.

"Do you remember when you were a kid? I don't know why it's important or relevant to anything... but do you remember what your favorite candy was?"

She could feel his questionable gaze through the dark sunglasses. He cocked his head to the side, studying her, possibly to see if she was sincere in her question. "Completely irrelevant, dear heart." He grabbed a hold of her elbow, and she felt a bit of disappointment. "But if the answer interests you that much, I would have to say candy corn." She blinked twice, unsure if she heard him right.

For the first time in several days, she felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a small smile. "Noted." She held out her arm and waited for him to stick the needle up her vein. "What are you hoping to find? I thought I was completely fine," she said. He had tested in almost every way possible. She had gone through emotional trauma, physical tests, and she had been poked and proded by various needles as well. What more could he possibly need?

Wesker took her hand and gently stuck the needle into her arm, watching the vial fill with her blood. "Answers," was all he said.

He pulled the needle out, and spilled a few drops onto a glass sheet he had pulled from his pocket. To her surprise, he took a blood sample from himself and added a drop to the plate, waiting for his blood to mix with hers. He set another sheet on top of it and set the pair into a slot on his laptop. "That's pretty nifty," Claire commented. The screen beeped to life, and Claire saw large cells moving in every direction. Shortly after, many of the cells began pairing into groups. They didn't combine into one, but the two cells were joined, unable to separate themselves from each other.

Wesker leaned on the table, his expression unreadable. "Miss Redfield, tell me how you feel."

Claire rolled her sleeve back down as soon as the small bruise had healed. "You mean physically?" she asked. "Or mentally?"

"Everything, and please be as detailed as possible."

"Well, there really isn't much to say," she said, turning and taking a seat on top of the table, keeping her eyes on the monitor. "I can't feel much anymore. I'm more aggressive, and it takes a while before I'm calm enough to control the violent urges I've been feeling. I'm good with only a few hours sleep every two days. I can't even feel the effects of temperature or pain, as I'm sure you've seen." She placed her hands over her heart. "Wesker... I can't _feel_. I try to reminisce about anything that's made me smile or cry, and I can't do any of those things. Even now, talking about all of this, I'd probably be crying at this point, but it feels like I don't even have tear ducts."

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Yet you can feel this?" he asked.

She nodded, staring at the floor, confused. "It's strange. I don't feel the warmth of your hand, but I can feel something more than just a gloved hand brushing by my skin. What does that mean?"

"It means, dear heart," Wesker said, shutting his laptop, "that you and I are one and the same. I had not counted on the reactions of the virus in two separate hosts. It seems that the viruses that flow through our veins are reliant upon each other, hence, this "connection" we feel to one another."

"You've lived like this for so long," Claire said distantly. "How could you stand it? I'm sure there are things you miss when you were my brother's captain. Or has the promises of wealth and power blinded you that much?"

"That is a story for another time, Miss Redfield. One, perhaps I will tell you when the time is right," he said. He offered her his hand to help her from the table, and this time she accepted. "May I ask you one more question?" He did not pull away from her, instead, he kept her close.

"Depending on the question, I may have an answer," Claire teased. She fell further into his embrace when he placed one hand on her waist and kept the other intertwined with hers.

"Do you remember how you felt when we were dancing?" he asked, swaying her in a slow waltz.

Luckily, it had happened recently, so her memories of the event weren't completely lost to her. "I remember my heart beating like crazy," Claire said, moving with him. "I thought you smelled nice, and I was very nervous that such a handsome man would have asked me to dance with him. You were entirely too bold, but that also excited me as no one has ever attempted to pull what you did with me." No blush crept on her cheeks, there was no heat on her face. Rather than shyly let Wesker in on a secret, she was stoically stating facts. "Until I found out who you were, your arms felt... strong and protective, but also predatory." He dipped her, leaning over her.

"And now?" he asked.

Claire was pulled up a moment later. "We're just two people dancing to no music," she said simply. It was then that he let her go. He walked over to the table to gather the laptop and metal case. "So was this another test that I had to pass?" she asked following him out into the hallway.

"Indeed, Miss Redfield, but it was I who had failed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The empty hangar was filled with the pained cries of the Anti-Umbrella team's latest hostage. Chris twisted the man's arm even more, earning a few pops and cracks from his shoulder. "I am not going to ask you again," he growled. "Where is Albert Wesker?" He was so close to Claire; he couldn't afford to waste time like this. He didn't like torturing people who were more or less the bystanders Wesker used in his ploys, but he was desperate.

The pilot yelped in pain, clutching onto his chest. "I told you, I have no idea where he is!" he yelled. "He just comes and goes as he pleases. I just wait for his call." The middle aged man began to whimper, his face turned a deep shade of red.

Jill looked at Chris, impatient and just as irritated as he was. She jammed the barrel of her Desert Eagle into the back of the man's head. "Then tell us where he headed," she threatened. Chris knew that Jill had no intention of killing the man, but she was pretty damn scary when she was mad.

The man's face twisted in pain, and pointed out of the hangar. "West! He headed west!"

Chris let go of the man's arm and shoved him away. Becca began tying up his hands and legs. "What's west of us?" he asked Jill. She had taken out her PDA, and punched in the coordinates for the Battle Mountain Airport.

"Looks like nothing but forest," Jill said, scrolling through a generic map. "What a second... there's a structure here. Take a look at this." She handed him the PDA, and sure enough a small building was right there in the middle of the forest west of their location. At this point, he didn't care about taking Wesker down; he just wanted to have his sister back. But if Wesker happened to die in the process, he wasn't going to argue either.

"I'm up for a little adventure," Leon said with a determined expression. "I'll get a ride ready."

Chris nodded, and turned to Billy and Becca. "Can you two handle things here?"

"You got it," Billy said, keeping a gun on the pilot. "Try anything and I'll shoot you."

"Chris, you have to be careful," Becca said. She pulled him aside and kept her voice hushed. He could see the concern in her large brown eyes. "Listen... I'm still uncertain about the perfected virus in Claire. Yes, the virus did what it should, but there's still no telling how much of Claire is left, understand? She may look like Claire, but..."

Chris bit his tongue from lashing out. He knew Becca meant well, and she deeply cared about Claire's well-being, but it still hurt knowing that his sister could be dead. He had to see her one last time. Even if he had confirmation of her death, he would still go after her. Redfields didn't give up; they never abandoned those they cared about. He ruffled his hand through Becca's hair. "I know, thanks, shorty... We'll keep radio silence for now. Once we have Claire, I'll call for you."

Becca wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "Be careful."

It warmed his heart to have such a child-like member on his team. Regardless of Umbrella's impact on their world, there was still someone who wasn't afraid to bring down their guard for a moment to express how much they care. Becca had grown into a fine young woman, and yet she still had that childlike energy about her. "I'm not going anywhere. You and Billy be careful too." He gave Billy a small wave, and both men nodded to each other.

Leon pulled up in a small jeep, waving to him and Jill. "Let's go!"

He jumped into the passenger side, and Jill hopped in the back. Leon floored the accelerator, and the trio headed west, intent on find their missing team member.

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AN: BTW, happy new year to everyone. Hope you all had fun and enjoyed the festivities. Be safe, and hope for the best for 2009.


	12. How Cliche

Her eyes gaped at the large body in front of her. "You kept this down here the whole time?" Claire asked, raising her voice. "Did you really want me to pass these tests?" She glared at Wesker, crossing her arms over her chest. He had brought her to a new level of the underground lab set directly beneath the mansion. They had gone down several more levels in the elevator, and when she stepped out, she was immediately reminded of the lab back in Paris. Dark hallways, numerous doors that lead to the unknown, large windows to display the latest test subjects, and cells surrounded them when they walked further into the testing lab.

They had taken many turns, but finally entered a room only lit by the brilliant life sized capsules that held failed experiments. There were shriveled up corpses and ones that had been burned or melted. Others seemed to have eaten themselves alive. The biggest one, which was reinforced with thick metal sheets held a nightmare. She had managed to peek through the metallic sheets wrapped around the capsule and saw a large mutant body. The eyes were closed, so it gave her some relief that it was sleeping. Several elongated teeth were protruding from its jaw, and its muscles were bulging, almost pulsating. She couldn't tell if it was the liquid it was floating in, but the skin looked like a pale green. There was no hair that covered the body, only scars and large unnatural veins.

Her eyes traveled over the rest of the creature's body, and she wasn't too keen on becoming familiar with the gaping claws that were supposed to be its hands. Sure enough, Wesker had kept a tyrant below them this entire time. "You could have warned me," she said. She could take on numerous infected, Eliminators, and possibly even Lickers all at the same time, but it was a completely different story with a tyrant.

She remembered setting a trap for Dr. Birkin when he had been mutated into a grotesque freak of nature. The most prominent feature that haunted her was the giant eye that had been set in Birkin's shoulder. She had aimed a rocket launcher right at that rotating orb and when he was close enough to her, she had fired the first round. When the smoke had cleared, Birkin was still standing, unharmed and hardly fazed by the small explosion. Did the tyrant in front of her surpass that durability? Could Wesker take it on and win? She had very little confidence that she could hold her own against the monster.

Wesker punched in a few buttons, keeping his back to her. "You were never meant to combat a tyrant from this series," he said. "This is the result of the same virus that is in you, but as you can see, it was a failure. It grew uncontrollable, so I have made the decision to terminate it."

"You did?" Claire asked, surprised that he didn't keep it around just for his own amusement.

"I took what I needed, Miss Redfield," he said, pushing a code into the computer when prompted. "I don't need a menace running around while I have other priorities to tend to."

Claire turned back to the capsule and saw a dark liquid beginning to spill into it, mixing with the green water. She assumed it was a poison to kill the tyrant. "You never had a chance did you?" Claire asked the sleeping monster. She placed her hand on the capsule, feeling a dull, but dying, connection with it. They were both infected with the same virus, and she could feel something growing in the pit of her stomach. An anger burned in her, a hatred for someone. She felt a murderous intent toward the world. Her hand was suddenly wretched away from the capsule, and the feeling left quickly.

Wesker now held her hand and began to pull her away. "Not a wise decision, dear heart," he said.

"What was that?" Claire asked, feeling almost dizzy. The rush of emotion was so strong, and then it had left her. Did she feel what the tyrant used to?

"Something I don't have the time to explain..." Wesker said in a deadly tone, but his anger wasn't toward her. He was watching something on the monitor. His hands began to ball up into fists, and his frown became more noticeable. When she sneaked a peek over his shoulder, a gasp had involuntarily left her lips.

"Chris..."

Alarms began to sing, and red lights flashed on an off. "_Intruders located in the north wing,"_ said a female computerized voice. "_Danger. Intruders located in the north wing. Executing decision 8FH549. Access to terminals VIT1001 and VIT1002 has been terminated. All processes shall be stopped and executed. Danger. Intruders located in the north wing..."_

_"_Damnit!" Wesker said, pounding his fists on the counter. He looked back to the tyrant, seeing the dark liquid disappear. No more of the anti-virus was being poured into the capsule. He grabbed Claire's hand and pulled her away, making haste toward the exit. "We must leave. Your brother has horrible timing."

"But what about-" He jerked her away from the entrance. His pace had quickened ten fold, and he was now running.

Claire's question was both cut off and answered by a muffled roar and the sounds of glass bursting open.

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AN: This is what I call a teaser chapter. It's to get your imagination rolling. So what do you think will happen next? I'll try to stay true to the RE universe while adding a few twists into the mix.

Kris


	13. Riddle Me This

Leon spun on his heel and delivered a swift kick into the zombie's head. The skull was crushed between his boot and the wall, splattering his boot with goo and decayed flesh. He turned again, keeping his back to his teammates, and shot another infected through the eye. Chris and Jill made quick work of the last three remaining zombies, using only two bullets and a combat knife. They had become an elite team over the years, and until their hearts stopped beating, they wouldn't stop.

"No doubt in my mind now, this has to be the place," Leon said keeping his voice hushed. No sooner had they entered the mansion that they had run right into a crowd of restless infected. They were blocking off the entrances to the only doors that led out of the lobby. Once one of them had caught the scent of fresh human flesh, they started making their way toward the trio.

Leon felt confident and remained calm as the horde rushed them. He remembered back to Raccoon City when he was just a rookie cop. The first time he saw these things, he choked and fumbled with his gun. It had taken a year after the destruction of the city to stop his hands from shaking whenever he fired upon an infected. He had to forget they were once human. Now he told himself that he was doing them a favor by putting a bullet into their heads. The guilt he had once felt was replaced by a sense of duty, a sense of obligation. No longer did he see monsters coming at him, rather, he saw helpless victims requesting him to end their suffering.

It seemed that the bloody massacre actually gave the room a bit of color. Chris and Jill tried to hide the look of surprise on their faces when they entered the lobby. They had mentioned something about being in deja vu when they had first approached the mansion. "You guys recognize this place?" he asked.

"The outside, yes," Chris answered. "But this is all new."

"We have four options here, boys," Jill said, pointing her gun toward the three doors to the right, and then nodding her head toward the single door to the left. "What do you think?"

"We could split up," Leon suggested, heading toward the door he was closest to. It was the third door on the right, and when he opened it, he could see a staircase spiraling up to the second level. He stepped back, looking to Chris for approval to move forward.

"I've never liked the idea of splitting up, but we'll cover a lot more ground if we do," Chris said. "We meet back here in a half hour. If something happens before then, radio in and come back here. Agreed?"

"All right," Jill said, choosing the door to the left.

Leon gave Chris a curt nod and began to ascend the stairs. He messed up last time, by not reacting fast enough to stop Claire. Well, he wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He was going to get her out of here, and they could deal with her infection together. He wouldn't rest until he found her a cure. An image of Claire's corpse crossed his vision, and he shook his head angrily. If she was dead because of the virus, he wouldn't leave her here. No... she deserved to be close to family. He had accepted the fact that she could be dead already; he had to. If he only placed his faith on the assumption that she was alive, and he found the exact opposite, it would crush him.

Each step creaked as he slowly made his way up to another plain simple door. He couldn't hear anything behind it, but he cautiously opened it, checking for any surprises. Quite the contrary to the first level room, the living room was fully furnished. The dominating color was a rich apple color, and it immediately reminded him of a memory back in Raccoon City. He checked behind the door for hostiles, but he was alone. He shut the door quietly behind him and surveyed the room.

There was no sign that the room had been used, so why bother going through the hassle of adding couches and coffee tables... There were beautiful paintings mounted on the walls, one of a golden sunrise and the other was an orange and lavender sunset. There was a vanity mirror placed on the mantle of the fireplace... "_odd placement for a mirror,_" he thought. A crystal chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling just above the coffee table, and a old grandfather clock was nestled in a far corner. A large bookcase stood just opposite of the fireplace. The books were set in colored groups rather than by author.

His boots sunk slightly into the lush beige carpet as he made his way to the bookcase. Strange that the books were in such a neat order, coordinating in color. There was one book that was out of place. A book with a golden colored spine was placed within the red group. Curious, Leon took the book out, was blinded by a single ray of light. There was a hole behind the book, and the light was coming from another hole in the wall. He looked to see where the light had ended, seeing a small circle of light next to the vanity mirror. The mirror was angled upward, and it made the wheels in his head start turning. Leon knew that every facility that had belonged to Umbrella or its competitors had secrets. And some were hidden well, away from the naked eye.

_What if... _ Leon approached the vanity mirror and moved it so that the ray of light directly hit it. The light was now angled toward the chandelier. An array of colored lights filled the room, making everything much brighter, reminding him of a disco ball. Well, that theory went out of the window. He needed to get back on track and find Claire. A wave of disappointment rushed over him; he had half expected some type of secret to be revealed to him.

He made his way to another door, passing by the grandfather clock. Something caught his eye. "What the..." He backtracked and looked at the face of the grandfather clock. Several colors had been illuminated directly over the numbers of the clock. There were seven colors in all, and they landed on the numbers:

I/Orange

II/Green

III/Blue

V/Yellow

VII/Purple

IX/Red

That was weird. He studied the face carefully, wondering what the strange combination meant. There were no clues or hints, but he felt that the numbers and colors were important somehow. He memorized the combination before deciding to continue his pursuit, leaving the strange room behind him. Dozens of questions filled his head. What other contraptions were in this mansion? And were they significant enough to bring him closer to Claire?

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Jill's lockpicking skills had yet again come in handy. With another twist, she heard a soft click, and the door was unlocked. Carefully, pushing the door open she kept her head low, and her gun at the ready. There were two zombies swaying from left to right, groaning in low murmurs. They had not noticed her, so she slid her combat knife from its holster. In three steps, she reached them. With two slices, she quickly decapitated the zombies before they had any chance to alert each other of her presence. Their heads fell to the floor along with their bodies, spilling dark blood all over the wooden floor.

She found the switch for the main lights, and flipped it. Of all the rooms she could have stumbled upon, she found herself in a mini shooting range. There was only one lane to use for practice, but it was was complete with a table that held a Magnum and various ammo. A long walkway started from where she entered the room and ended at the back wall. Along the back wall, she saw a sign that had "The Riff" painted on it. "Well, it's not Spencer, but it's still unorthodox," Jill said to herself. She looked down the range, curious to see what was being used as target practice. She was surprised to see a long horizontal sheet that resembled the keys to a piano.

Jill walked passed the ammo table, and stepped onto the range. The moment her toe touched the cement, hundreds of metal spikes large enough to impale an adult body shot out from the ground. She jumped back, shocked that her foot had almost been staked. Now that she was away from the cement floor, the spikes had sunk back down. "What the hell?" she gasped. Then she heard a song; it echoed over the PA system.

_Somewhere, over the rainbow... way up high. _

_There's a land that I've heard of_

_Once in a lullaby_

_Somewhere, over the rainbow... skies are blue_

_and the dreams that you dare to dream_

_Really do come true. _

The song continued on and repeated once more before the range became silent again. Dorothy's voice was sweet and angelic, and it reminded Jill of her childhood. She had never had a normal childhood, but she did possess a type of childlike innocence that all children had at one point in their lives. She was just blessed that her father had taught her a few extra skills. Boy, if her father could see her now. She wondered if he would be proud of her.

Jill looked up to the sign again; "The Riff" kept nipping at her. There was something here in this room. She had learned to trust her instincts, and now they told her not to take the riddle of this room for granted. She looked down the range and focused on the target sheet. In music, riff usually pertained to the main melody of a song. It generally included, five to seven notes... could it be?

She counted the syllables in her head. "Some-where, o-ver, the, rain-bow... seven syllables." Maybe it was a long shot, and maybe she was crazy to think there was any relevance, but past experience with the Spencer Mansion taught her not to overlook coincidences. She took a stance behind the ammo table, and aimed at the key chart. She hummed the tune a few times before she was confident in the correct pitch. She took aim and fired at the first note: C. Then she moved up seven white keys and fired at the second C. "Somewhere..." she whispered. _Bam! Bam! _ G and A. "Over." _Bam! Bam! _Both on B._ "_The rain..." One last shot on the higher C. "Bow."

She heard something move behind her. She turned to see that the sign had fallen down. There was a crevice in the wall that held a small plastic card. It was an access card to the red levels, whatever that meant. "Right... now I've seen everything," Jill sighed as she stuffed the card into her pocket. It had to lead somewhere, and she was going to find out where.

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	14. Riddle Me That

Chris stared at the wall in front of him, completely dumbfounded. "What's with these guys and puzzles," he said in annoyance. The wall contained numerous bricks, all of which contained a letter of the alphabet. Many of the letter were duplicates, and there were at least fifty columns and rows of two by two foot bricks. The massive display was huge, and overwhelmed him. What the hell was he supposed to find? None of the letters were in order; it was one huge word search puzzle.

His most recent search had led him to a dead end, but he knew better than to assume the room truly had no hidden passages or pathways. He wondered briefly if the others ran into little mind games on their hunt. It was foolish of him to assume that this replica mansion wouldn't be the same as Spencer's "home." He looked around the room multiple times, but he found no answers. The office held no clues regarding the secret of the letter wall. He had rummaged through books and drawers, and went through ever nook and cranny, but he found nothing. The ungodly bright light from the ceiling fan was causing him a headache. Did Wesker really need the extra light to see? He felt a light layer of sweat on his brow forming.

Chris went over to the light switch, and shut off a portion of the lights around the room easing the strain on his eyes. When he turned back to the letter wall, he noticed writing on the opposite side of the office. Along the barren wall were illuminated words. "No way..." Chris said. He shut off all the lights, and could now clearly see a message that had been written on the wall in glowing letters.

_With love and care did my body grow_

_Only love and care did my creator show_

_With four that hold up one._

_My creator has worked from moon to sun._

_Walls for protection is what he gave_

_From dark predators I will be saved_

_But there are secrets that lurk within_

_I am not pure, I am full of sin_

_Please creator please tell me why_

_For it is your name that I will always cry._

He looked over the poem several times before he received a call on his radio. "My door is clear," came Jill's voice. "I found something that could help us later, but I have no idea what it goes to."

"Copy that," Chris answered, keeping his eyes on the words before him. "For it is your name that I will always cry... what the hell does that mean?"

_Static_. "You got trouble, Chris? Over." _Static._

"I don't know yet," he answered truthfully. He had no idea where to even begin. "There's a riddle here, and I guess I'm supposed to answer it if I want to get anywhere. If you're done, I could use a hand."

_Static. _Leon's voice took over. "I'm done as well. I'll meet up with you in a few minutes. Couldn't find anything on my end." _Static. _

"Copy," Chris said, tucking the radio back into his belt. Why couldn't this rescue mission be simple? He had half a mind to strap some C4 to the damn wall, but who knew what else he would be taking down with it. If there was one thing just as annoying as chasing down Wesker, it was riddles.

He went over the poem one line at a time, and the only answer he could come up with was God or something related to the church. God was considered the ultimate creator, so he thought of various names that God was often called. But it was probably best to start simple. Every riddle needed a starting point.

Chris walked over to the alphabet wall and looked any order of letters that resembled GOD. That seemed like a decent place to start. He found it displayed vertically on the far left hand side. When he reached out to touch the G, he received a large shock that traveled throughout his body. "Ugh!" he fell to the ground, shaking his head to clear his vision. The wave of electricity brought him to his knees, and he had barely even touched the wall. "Guess that was the wrong answer..."

He couldn't afford to guess wrong; the power of the shocks would render him useless if he kept having such high voltages entering his body. He wasn't planning on having a field day with powerful currents of electricity, so he refrained from touching any other letters that made up God's many aliases. The palm of his hand was blackened, and his heart rate had returned to normal. It wasn't much longer until Jill and Leon entered the office.

"Well, you've got quite a tough one on your hands," Jill said after reading the poem. She looked to the alphabet wall, and placed a finger under chin. "So I'm assuming that you're supposed input the answer here?" She reached out, but he pulled her back.

Chris showed her his hand, and she winced. "Yeah, just don't mess up."

"With four that hold up one?" Leon recited. "That's the only line that doesn't really make sense. Everything else here can pertain to the human soul and the human heart, but what does four that hold up one have to do with anything?"

"Maybe it has to do with the number of legs and arms we have?" Jill suggested.

Chris shook his head. "It doesn't match the rest of the poem though. Everything has to do with a creator."

Leon toyed with the idea a while longer. He reached out to the letter B and received the same shock Chris had earlier. He stepped back, barely able to regain his balance. "Well, I guess BABY is out of the question," he said groaning, shaking his hand to get feeling back into it.

Jill looked around the room, going through the mess that Chris had made. They couldn't spend the next hour shocking each other with wrong answers. "There has to be something." When she cleared the desk off, she noticed a picture of Spencer Mansion that had been inserted into glass set firmly inside the main body of the desk. It served as the main display of the desk, adding to the presence of such a finely made commodity. The picture featured a bird's eye view of the mansion, and it looked serene and homely. The colors used were bright and lively, immediately giving one a sense of security. _'Yeah right... if they only knew what was inside of that thing,'_ Jill thought to herself. "Hold on..." her eyes snapped back to the poem on the wall. "Walls for protection is what he gave me. Secrets that lurk within, I am not pure, I am full of sin..." and it finally hit her. "The poem's about Spencer Mansion," she said out loud.

"The mansion itself?" Chris asked skeptically.

Jill read each line of the poem, feeling the pieces fit together. "Four that hold up one. Four walls that hold up a house. The secrets within are the experiments that happened in the underground labs. Quick, who was the creator of Spencer Mansion?"

"George Trevor," Chris answered.

Jill returned to the alphabet wall and looked for the name of the mansion's creator. When she focused more on finding actual words hidden in the wall, she found MESSIAH, JEHOVAH, GENESIS, TRINITY, CHILD, and many more. All were answers to throw the hunter off the trail. "There!" she said pointing to the G in the middle of the far right. From left to right, she saw ROVERTEGROEG. The name was backwards. "Let's see if I'm right," she said.

She placed her hand on the first G and prepared herself to get thrown back. But no shock came. The brick containing the letter G was sucked into the wall, and she smiled. She proceeded down until the very last R. "That's my girl!" she heard Chris cheer.

The entire wall began to move, shaking while it split down the middle. The two halves separated from each other and revealed a single metal door. In the center of it, she saw a circular indentation. There was a keypad in the middle of it. Great, now they needed a freaking code. "I got nothing," she frowned to Chris and Leon, stepping away. Just when she thought they were about to get somewhere, they ran right into another dead end.

Leon inspected the keypad further, being careful not to touch anything. "Looks like there should be seven numbers," he said. "There are seven tiny slots, so I'm guess that's where the numbers are supposed to go."

"Just great," Jill sighed. "First it was that stupid rainbow song, then a cryptic poem, and now this."

"What song?" Leon said, perking up. That made him remember something.

Jill pulled out the access card she had found about an hour ago. "I found this in the shooting range, but I had to go through another one of these puzzles," she said in irritation, pointing to the keypad. "It was Dorothy singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

"Rainbow..." Leon said slowly. He looked down at his watch, and approached the keypad. "If I'm wrong, feel free to kick my ass. But there was a contraption I found earlier that featured the colors of the rainbow. At the time, I had no idea what it meant, but..." He punched in the numbers 9,1,5,2,3, and 7 just as they had been illuminated by the order of the colors of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet. The keypad turned green, and a slot had opened. "I think this is all you," he said to Jill.

Jill slid the access card into the keypad, and an elevator door was opened to them. Each of them readied their weapons, and slowly made their way inside. The moment they pushed the button to go down, the alarms were triggered. "_Warning! Intruder alert. Fingerprints denied. Warning! Intruder alert," _shrieked a computerized voice. The elevator door shut behind them trapping them inside and began the descent down into the unknown.


	15. Separation

Sorry for the late update guys... Life hit me, ran me over, then threw it in reverse a few times actually, but I'm trying my best to get this done for you. Thank you to those who are still reading and giving me reviews. Now onto the good stuff.

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Claire heard the destruction of the labs behind her. If she lingered for just a few seconds, she would probably be caught in the cave-in of wires, walls, and electrical units. With every step, she heard walls crumbling, claws scraping, and that malicious roar. She and Wesker were running down the hallways, barely keeping ahead of the tyrant. It had awakened in rage, and made short work of the testing lab it had been stored in. Usually, a tyrant had to be provoked to unleash such anger, but this one felt nothing but hatred for everything around it. Claire looked up and could see its reflection in the circular mirrors they had passed by. The tyrant was mad and blind, and it didn't stop chasing them.

"What did you do to piss it off?" Claire yelled, rounding a corner. Her adrenaline shot up a few more levels when she saw they were headed for a wall. They were headed for a narrow dead end... not good. Wesker ran ahead of her and punched in a code into a rectangular crevice on the right side wall she had not noticed before. The wall then split open, allowing them safe passage through. They both ran inside, just as the wall had closed behind them.

The tyrant continually beat on the door, leaving indentations in the solid frame. Claire could hear the frustrated cries, and she wondered how long the door would hold. "Any bright ideas?" she asked. She looked around the large hangar in amazement. There were three helicopters and a small plane, but there was enough room to have a small army posted. How was it possible that all of this was underground? She began mapping out strategies in her head. The tyrant would surely break through, but she and Wesker had enough open space to maneuver around the giant beast if needed. They also weren't limited like humans were. They were faster, stronger, and could sustain physical damage that would kill a regular person. The problem was, they had no weapons.

She kept her eyes on the beaten door, watching it cave in with each powerful blow by the tyrant. A voice boomed overhead. _Self destruction sequence initiated. Contamination detected in levels red and yellow. Self destruction in t-minus ten minutes. _Claire saw Wesker hunched over his laptop. "_This_ is your bright idea?" she scowled. "Blowing up the whole damn place?" She approached him intent on scolding him, but he pulled her into an embrace before she could smack him.

"Are you able to feel regret, Claire?" he asked in a husky voice. His lips were touching her ear, and she was suddenly aware of his warmth. His hands were on her hips and back, and he pulled her close as though he was afraid that she would leave him at any given moments. She felt a warmth in her heart, and leaned into his arms, relaxing into him. In a matter of seconds, she was calmed. Strange how it only took one touch from this man to keep her under control.

"I don't know..." she said truthfully. "But the time I spent with you, I would not take back." She pulled away slowly, and took off his sunglasses. She placed her hands on his cheeks, memorizing his face, every curve, every feature. Her fingertips traced over his lips, and she was certain she would never forgot the feel of them on her. In the beginning, she wanted to flee from him. She was angry that he had put her in such a predicament, but slowly she began to feel the hatred fade from her heart. Whether it was the influence of the virus, she had no idea. But she no longer hated the man before her. But she also had to admit, "I don't love you." That was also the truth.

"I know, dear heart," he said. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and the warmth in her heart grew. It was the most she had been able to feel in weeks. He pulled away and placed his lips on her forehead.

"Claire!" shouted a voice.

She snapped her head back, and saw Chris on the other side of the hangar. He had his weapon drawn, and Jill and Leon were behind him. "Chris!" she yelled. She stepped in front of Wesker, hardly able to believe her eyes. Wesker's hands left her body, and the connection faded. She kept her back to Wesker, taking one step toward Chris' direction. "Chris!" She was sure that if she were human, her heart would be swelling with joy.

"Wesker," Chris growled, now aiming his gun at his former captain. Chris' eyes grew wide moments later, and his aim was now at the door behind them.

Wesker roughly grabbed her arm and shoved her aside. Seconds later, the tyrant burst through, the thick metal plates that served as doors went flying passed Claire's head. She heard shots fired, but the bullets bounced off of the tyrant's body. "Claire, watch out!" she heard Leon yell. More shots flew over her, but she knew that the weapons were useless against the tyrant's armor like skin.

She jumped to her feet, and charged the tyrant with Wesker beside her. It swung its claw at her, and she blocked it with both of her arms, feeling the force of the impact move her a few feet to the side. While she kept one arm at bay, Wesker kicked at its knees, forcing the tyrant to kneel. It screamed in anger, and before Wesker could do anything, the other arm came down, knocking into Claire, sending her flying into a wall.

The arm came swinging back, but Wesker caught it. With a surge of inhuman power, he ripped the arm from the shoulder socket, and tossed it aside. The tyrant screamed and wailed, backing away from Wesker. Yellow and orange blood began spitting out of the wound, coating its entire right side. It roared again, and Wesker stepped back, caught in an awe-inspiring moment. Another limb shot out from the wound, more grotesque and hideous than the first. The tyrant began its first mutation, growing larger in size, and becoming much more violent and aggressive. The new limb thinned out toward the tip, forming into a sharp blade coated in blood and a slimy mucus membrane.

"Wesker!" he heard Claire call to him. She was on her feet, but she kept a safe distance from the monstrosity before her. She was frozen in place, amazed at the transformation just as he was.

Redfield, Kennedy, and Valentine ran to her, but Claire did her best to keep herself between them and the tyrant. The trio would be dead in a moment if the tyrant went after them and Claire was not there to intercept. He and Claire both knew that. She was doing her best to keep her family away from her.

"Claire, we're getting out of here!" Chris yelled to his sister. He pulled at her, but she pushed him out of the way.

"Then get your ass in one of those choppers and start it up!" she commanded. "Jill! Try to find a way to open the hangar to the upper levels. I'll distract it, so you guys get ready to go!"

"That's crazy," Chris said. He pulled on her arm again, but this time Claire picked him up by his tactical vest, easily lifting him from the floor.

"I said go!" she barked. "I'm not going to argue with you!"

"Come on, Chris!" Jill said, making the decision for the older Redfield. Jill clapped her hand on Claire's shoulder, asking her to put down her brother.

There would be another time for Redfield, Wesker promised himself that. Jill had ran into the control tower, and Redfield jumped into the nearest chopper, prepping it for evac. At another time and place, he would probably admit to being proud of Claire for taking command over her brother. It was so satisfying seeing Redfield cower in the presence of his younger sibling.

Kennedy, however, stayed by Claire. "I'm not leaving your side," he said in defiance. "Never again." He handed her a gun, and she nodded to him, accepting the weapon.

Claire ran to the tyrant, firing upon any area she deemed a weak spot on the body. Any part not covered in thick shelled armor was sprayed with bullets. She dodged and jumped out of the way when new limbs sprouted from the mutating mass. Any resemblance to a man was ripped away as the skin broke apart and muscles began to bulge outward. Kennedy kept up with Claire, doing his best to protect her. What a simpleton. However, he was no longer a rookie cop that missed his first official day. The emotions he had for Claire fueled his body, and kept him one step behind Claire. But the chivalrous intentions were futile.

Only Claire Redfield could handle the tyrant for the time being. He had to act quickly. For the first time since his childhood, he had wished there was more time. Even being immortal, Wesker realized that time still had a hold on him. But he couldn't spend any more of it on hopes and wishes.

_Self destruction in t-minus four minutes and fifty-eight seconds. _

Wesker heard the upper levels opening; the ceiling began to split in half allowing passage for safe air travel. Valentine was successful. The air was filled with a mixture of turning wheels and cranks, the wails of the self destruction warning, and the cries of the undead monster. Wesker quickly inserted a disk into the laptop he carried, and began to download all of Claire's data. His mind drifted back to the beginning of this little adventure as he saw the green bar run across the monitor. He calculated every possible scenario when it came to his master plan of researching the new virus strand, but he had never taken into account the transformation that had happened between him and Claire Redfield.

He would never tell her, but he had found the secret to their not entirely unwelcome connection. She would figure it out; Claire didn't need the enhancement of the virus to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. She was smart enough without it. He heard Kennedy give out a cry of pain when the disk ejected itself from the laptop. Wesker slipped the disk into his pocket, and inserted a second one.

"Leon!" cried Claire. Wesker looked back to see how the fight was progressing. Claire was on her back, and the monster towered over her, trying with all of its might to crush her. The giant claw pressed against her, and Claire was only able to keep the nails inches from her face. Her arms were shaking, but she was able to keep a knee in between herself and the monster's abdomen. She twisted sharply, and kicked with all her strength, sending the monster flying.

Claire stood slowly, wrapping her arm around her waist. Blood began pouring out of her side; apparently, she had received a nasty gash. Kennedy was by her side, holding onto her. "You okay?" he asked her, but she didn't answer him. If Kennedy was not there to support her, she would have fallen to her knees. The second disk ejected, and Wesker slipped it into his coat pocket. He picked up the laptop, and hurled it at the monster before it could pounce on the Claire and Kennedy. The small computer shattered into hundreds of pieces the moment it collided into the monster's face. He stepped up to the cowering pair. "I'm beginning to think you enjoy being saved by me, dear heart," he said to Claire, keeping his attention on the tyrant.

"Hardly," she said weakly. She pushed against Leon again. "Leon, wait for me by the helicopter."

"I said I wasn't leaving you," Leon countered. He kept a firm grasp on her arm, but she moved it from her waist, and the wound was gone.

"Please, just go and wait for me," she pleaded. "Wesker and I can handle this. I'm going to blame myself forever if you die here because of me. Please... just go." She placed her hand on his cheek, hoping that the gesture would persuade him.

"I can't Claire," Leon said, cupping his hand over hers. "I love you."

If Claire could feel, she would have felt her heart leap for joy just now. If she could feel, she would have felt her heart break because Leon's life was in danger now, and the possibility of him dying before her would destroy her. If she could feel, she probably would have told Leon the same. But she couldn't feel those things. She wasn't even human. So, she couldn't answer him. "I know..." is all she said. "Please just do this, for me," she said desperately. She could hear Wesker fighting with the tyrant, and the countdown was down to one minute and twenty-six seconds.

Leon's lips were pressed into a thin line, but he shook his head. "You have less than a minute," he said. He squeezed her hand, but finally, he turned and ran to join Chris and Jill in the helicopter. "Thank you, Leon," Claire whispered. A dark shadow hovered over her, and she realized that the creature had grown in size once more.

Everything it touched, it destroyed. Even Wesker was having difficulties keeping the monster at bay. The ground now shook as the lower levels were beginning to implode. It was only a matter of time before the explosion reached this level. Claire jumped to the side, avoiding contact with the creature's multiple limbs. She saw more eyes sprouting out over the body, and she fired into every single one that she saw. No matter how direct hits she made, the creature would not back down. It came at them, and both did their best to avoid the bladed limbs that threated to slice away at their bodies.

Wesker had detached another limb, tearing through bone and flesh, but the monster kept regrowing everything it had lost. Claire managed to catch one of the limbs and snapped the blade in half. But the second the flesh was disconnected, it had regrown.

"This is useless, Wesker!" she yelled. "We have to leave now!"

_Self destruction sequence activated. _

She grabbed Wesker's hand and pulled with all her strength. "That's our cue!" She ran toward the helicopter, seeing it hover slightly above ground level. Chris was waving her over, yelling, "come on!"

Just a few more steps and she would be with her family again. Suddenly, Wesker was ripped from her grasp. She turned and saw a large tentacle wrapped around his torso. He was sharply pulled back, but she managed to hold grab onto him again. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him from leaving her.

"Claire! We have to go!" Chris yelled with urgency.

Claire saw the creature set on fire. She was out of time. Red and orange began to seep into the hangar. The fires of the explosions below surrounded them. Black smoke filled the air, and the walls began to crack and fall. "Wesker, come on!" she shouted. She was losing her footing, and if the tyrant pulled again, she would lose her hold on him.

"Dear heart," he said, completely unaffected by his position. She felt his hand run through her hair, and she felt his lips again. This kiss was much different than the others. There was something... human about it. He jerked suddenly, and she felt a sharp pain in her neck. The shock caused her to lose her grip on Wesker, and he took the moment to push her toward the helicopter. She felt numerous hands on her as they pulled her away from him. Wesker's silhouette was far from her reach, and he disappeared into a blast of flame that consumed both him and the tyrant.

Before she knew it, they were flying high above the explosion. She felt a hot flash spread through her body. She could smell Leon next to her, and he was saying something in her ear, but she couldn't understand him. Something was invading her bloodstream, she could feel every single part of her being affected. The last thing her mind registered was Leon holding her close to him.


	16. Epiphany

She saw his face for just a moment before it faded into nothingness. He was gone; the connection they had disappeared despite her efforts to find it again. She reached out for him, and called his name, but she received no answer. She was alone. Darkness consumed her, and all she could hear was her own breathing. There was a presence beside her, but she could not see anything. A hand reached out to her, and her fingers were intertwined with another's. "Claire..." said a voice. The contact broke the dream she was experiencing, and she felt her eyelids automatically open. There was a white ceiling above her, and the walls were tinged with a lavender color. She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the sunlight that filled the room.

The fingers around her hand tightened, and she heard a deep soothing voice. "How are you feeling?" It was Leon. It was then that she knew, there was no other face she would have wanted to see when she awoke from a bad dream.

His handsome face came into view, and she had never been more relieved to see him, alive and well. He brushed her bangs from her eyes, and leaned closer to her, bringing her fingers to his chin. "You've been out of it for some time now," he said. "At first... I was sure you weren't going to make it." She could see the worry on his face, his brow had creased, and his eyes were closed.

"Leon," she croaked out. Her throat was dry, but thankfully, he handed her a cup of water that was already waiting for her. "How long?" she asked after gulping down the entire cup. She picked herself up, and leaned against the headboard, but she never broke contact with Leon. The bed was soft and her pillow was quite fluffy. All of the small knicknacks she saw on the floor confirmed that she was back in her own bedroom.

"Four days," he said, looking at her. "You weren't receptive at all in the helicopter. You weren't breathing, and I couldn't find a pulse. There was so much of your blood all over, and I thought the worst." His voice broke, but he cleared his throat to cover it. "Wesker shot you with God's knows what, and we all thought you were dead. It was an injury unlike any I've ever seen. But when we managed to land in Battle Mountain Airport, Becca took over and found a heartbeat. So you've been under her care for the last few days."

Claire's gaze softened. She couldn't imagine how the team must have felt, especially Chris. Leon looked like he hadn't slept in days, and the chair and blanket by her bed told her he didn't leave her side often. She placed her other hand on his arm, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He truly meant what he had said back at the hangar. He never left her. "What happened with the tyrant? Was there any sign of Wesker?" she just had to ask. If she was able to, she wanted to know.

Leon shook his head. "It actually happened quickly."

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"Chris!" Leon shouted, after he had started CPR on Claire. He pushed down on her chest in intervals of three. "Chris! She's not breathing! Jesus!" Leon bent down again, blowing into her unmoving mouth. The blood kept pouring from the wound in the back of her neck. Half of him began to lose hope when he noticed the color of her blood; it was jet black. How much of Claire was left? He willed himself to linger on the positive. She was still Claire; she begged him to leave so that his death wouldn't be on her conscience. That was human. The woman that lay before him was still his Claire.

Jill was trying her best to keep the hole closed, but no matter how many patches of gauze she used, the blood seeped right through, showing no signs of stopping. "My God, Claire..." Jill stammered. Her hands were shaking as she replaced the blood soaked towels and used her own jacket and pressed against the injury. "Hang in there, girl." Tears were running down Jill's face, but she was far from breaking down.

"Claire!" Chris called over his shoulder. "Don't you dare die on me! You hear me!"

Leon continued CPR, checking every few seconds for a pulse. A wave of panic washed over him when he couldn't locate one at all. There was so much he wanted to say to her. He cursed himself for being a coward, for wasting all of the moments that were given to him when he was with her. Why did he wait this long? For years he had kept his feelings bottled up, and not once had he acted upon them.

The helicopter thrashed around violently, throwing him off his balance. The heat of the explosion washed over him, and he bent over Claire to protect her. When the turbulence lessened, he looked down at the destruction of the mansion below them. The mushroom cloud reminded him of Raccoon City. There was no way that the tyrant could have survived that explosion. Even Wesker could not have survived; he had no time to evacuate. So good riddance.

He and Jill continued working on Claire, trying everything they could to bring life back into her body. All he could think about was his desire to see her eyes opening. To see her chest rise and fall, to see anything but the stillness that loomed over her body. He didn't know how much time went by before he was pulled back and gently pushed aside.

Becca and Billy had joined them, and the shorter redhead took over for him. Becca didn't ask any questions; she just jumped into medic mode and did everything she was trained to do. "Come on, Claire," Becca pleaded. She took out a syringe from her buttpack, and inserted the long needle into Claire's arm, injecting a clear liquid into the bloodstream. Becca placed her fingers on Claire's neck, keeping absolutely still. "Come on... come on!" she hissed, looking at her watch.

"How is she?" Chris called again in panic.

But Becca didn't answer him. She was still searching for some sign of life. After another minute, the smaller woman breathed out a sigh of relief. "I have something!" she said with a victorious smile. "I've got a pulse!" Becca bent down to check the wound on Claire neck. When she stood up again, she gave Jill and Leon a confused look. "I don't see anything... where did all this blood come from?"

"That's impossible," Leon said, but when he checked the wound, he realized Becca was right. He wiped away the blood from her neck, feeling only smooth skin. The gaping hole that he had seen only minutes before was completely healed. Seeing that there was no immediate danger to her physical body, Leon lifted Claire's head let the back of her head rest on his lap. "I don't think there will ever be another time where I'm thankful for that damn virus," he said in a low voice.

For the rest of the flight home, no one said a thing, but he was sure that they all agreed with him.

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Claire listened silently as Leon recapped all of the events for her. There were times where he had instinctively tightened his grip around her fingers. It was unlike Leon to show so much emotion . Over the years, Leon had turned from a spontaneous reckless cop to a very cool level headed thinker that only acted when necessary. He cared for her deeply, that much was obvious. Whether or not Wesker cared for her, she had no way of knowing.

She was likely a commodity to Wesker, an item of value. But there were times that she didn't think he was capable of being so giving or gentle. It was like he was human again when he was with her. When she was first living at the mansion, her feelings and emotions were at their strongest. The more time she spent with Wesker, the human side of her faded, yet it seemed like he picked up where she left off. The more she thought about it, the more she pitied Wesker.

Their relationship, if it could even be called that, was confusing at best, but what she had with Wesker was quite strong. The more time they had spent together, the more it seemed that they swapped personalities... She blinked. An epiphany hit her suddenly. Wesker had mentioned that he didn't predict the repercussions about sharing essentially the same virus, and he also admitted that being close to her physically had an effect on him. What if... what if they really did swap personalities?

Since she was infected, she expected to be aggressive and violent, almost malicious. But surprisingly, she had kept most of her humanity,and it wasn't only until Wesker made an appearance that she began to change. He was cold and unfeeling... until he spent time with her. The gestures, the caresses, the nights they spent together were all acts of a human. Perhaps, he was taking after her the way she was to him. Her heart had become hard, and no longer welcomed her humanity. But Wesker changed too, and he hid it from her. If her assumptions were right, then he most likely became vulnerable, and he was open to emotion. Every time she had said she didn't love him, his lips would press together in a thin line. Did he feel something for her, and expected a different answer? She pitied him even more.

Here was a man that had not felt a shred of emotion for most of his life, and then the moment he was forced to open up, he was paired with someone who was unable to reciprocate. If Wesker did survive, would he be a different person? Would the time they spent together have changed any part of him? She could never know... Now that they were no longer together, and they could not "feed" off of the other's influence, his heart may have hardened again, and the last few weeks may not have meant anything. If he were alive...

Leon's fingers stroked her cheek, and she looked at him with watery eyes. "Why are you crying, Claire?" he asked softly.

"Crying?" she repeated. She brought her hands up to her face and felt the wet moisture on her cheeks and chin. "Oh my God..."

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	17. And Curtain

Long overdue… and I apologize.

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Claire finally sat down on the grassy patch and brought her knees up to her chin. It had taken her fifteen minutes to come to the conclusion that she needed to be here. In front of her, stood a tall, thick Weeping Willow. The numerous thin strands of leaves hung above her, acting as an umbrella for shade. She and her team were now in China, investigating numerous cases of mysterious murders. Several bodies were found mangled and decomposed, and there were many areas in the Great Wall that had been noticeably desecrated. Bones of the workers who had helped build the wall had been taken from its cracks and crevices. It was such an odd mystery that Chris felt obligated to head to China and confirm whether the instances were related to Umbrella.

After hours of investigation, Chris had told them they would be spending a few weeks in Beijing. He allowed them a day of rest. Apparently, things were going to get rocky again. Leon had offered to spend time with Claire, but she politely refused. Understandably, he didn't like her going off by herself, but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I just need some time to myself," she said.

She decided to take a stroll down to a large lake that was surrounded by Weeping Willows. It seemed that she was the only person who decided to enjoy the great outdoors that Beijing had to offer. For that, she was grateful. Once she was satisfied, she contemplated why she chose this exact spot. There was nothing special about this area. It held no sentimental value to her. She reached into her pocket. '_At least not yet…'_ She clutched the tiny bag in her hand, and held it to her chest, feeling like a fool.

"I never got to say goodbye," she said out loud after taking a deep breath. "It would be easier talking to some kind of monument rather than talking out into thin air." She felt her throat begin to close. "You were a bastard, Albert Wesker," she said with a smile. "I can't believe that I'm still thinking of you despite all of the crap you put me through. You made see things that I never wanted to see, made me into something I never wanted to be." She thought back to her imprisonment at the mansion, but she couldn't say that there was nothing but bad memories there. She sniffed, feeling that large rush of emotion filling her. Since she became human again, she was experiencing common emotions to a much larger degree. "But I'd have to say that I don't regret it. None of it. How could I?"

There was a soft wind picking up, cooling her face where the tears fell. She reached back and pulled her ponytail free. "I hate you and everything you stand for. You will forever be my enemy and my brother's enemy, but…" she stood to her feet and faced the Weeping Willow. "There was a part of you that I found that I am sure is now lost forever. But for the tiny brief moment that I saw it, I loved it." She reached up and used the rubber band to tie the tiny bag to the leaves of the Willow. Claire pressed her lips to the tiny bag, closing her eyes, and allowing herself to leave memories of Albert Wesker behind. "Goodbye," she whispered.

Till the day she died, she would help put a stop to the creation of BOW's. That was her calling. She couldn't see herself anywhere else. An unpredictable chapter had closed in her life, and she was ready to start another one. She turned and walked away, leaving the tiny bag of candy corn to sway with the leaves of the Weeping Willow.

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AN: This marks the end of the New Game story, but I've decided to continue with a sequel named "Save and Continue". The first chapter is up. I hope I can live up to the expectations that have been set from this story. Thank you all for reading.

Kris =)


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